


Dirty Little Secret

by Do_the_Cool_Whip



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Made For Each Other, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Do_the_Cool_Whip/pseuds/Do_the_Cool_Whip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce didn’t know. He could never know. Dick would do anything to make sure Bruce never remembered what he did under the influence of Poison Ivy’s pollen and Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin. But, whether Bruce knows or not, doesn’t change the facts. Dick is fourteen, terrified, and pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not exactly sure if this needs a trigger warning, but I figured I'd throw one in just in case. The first scene Dick is having a nightmare, nothing graphic happens, but well, just so you know.
> 
> I wrote this in one shot and made no attempt to edit it, I'm not even totally sure what I just wrote, but well it's a chapter of something, so I figured I should post it; instead, of just burying it deep deep deep in the bowels of my laptop.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

 

Dick scrambles back, hands and feet scuttling under him, refusing to take his eyes off Batman. The man towers over him, as large as a mountain, and Dick swears the shadows surrounding him come alive, reaching out to grab him and pull him back towards the imposing figure.

“Batman, get a hold of yourself!”

His back hits a wall and the other walls of the room begin closing in on him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Batman stops in front of him. The whites of his lenses glow even brighter than they should. Batman kneels down, and Dick can hear Scarecrow in the background. “12:22 pm. Batman corners Dick. 12:23 pm. Batman removes Dick’s clothing.”

Dick glances down and he’s naked. His hands dart between his legs to cover his genitalia. It doesn’t make any sense and some part of his mind is screaming at him that this can’t be real, but Dick can’t separate himself from his own fear long enough to listen to the rational part of him. He shuts his eyes and opens them. There are bright red handprints around his wrists, his thighs, his neck. He aches between his legs. He hurts and one of his eyes won’t open all the way.

Batman reaches out and places one hand on his leg, gently pulling it away from his body. Dick stares at him before he glances down and notices how he has somehow curled up into the fetal position. “No.” he whispers, yanking his leg back towards himself.

Batman snarls.

And suddenly he’s over Dick and try as Dick might, he can’t fight him off. He would scream, and yell, and shout, but there’s a hand wrapped around his neck and he can’t breathe and—

Dick awakes with a jolt. There’s a scream buried in his throat, a crushing weight on his chest, and a splattering of tears on his face. He covers his mouth with both hands, knuckles turning white, and lets out a slow breath through his nose.

Thirty minutes later, he has worked his way through many of the breathing exercises Bruce has taught him. He’s calm enough, confident enough, to sit up in bed and chance a look at the glowing red numbers on his digital clock. 3:25. He had gone to bed less than an hour ago.

Dick gets out of bed and makes his way across the room to the attached bathroom. When the light flicks on, he spares barely a glance at the opulent bathroom. Instead, it’s his reflection he can’t look away from. There is no black eye, no split lip, or any other injury to indicate something was wrong. Those had healed up over a month ago. He closely examines the boy in the mirror, making notes about the flaws in his appearance. His hair is a shaggy mess, but that’s to be expected. It’s his red rimmed eyes, the bags collected under him, and the pale complexion that concerns him.

He’s looked like this for days.

He can’t go on like this.

* * *

When he first moved into the manor, Dick used to have nightmares. Horrible nightmares that used to have him wake up screaming. He had been seven and he’d been struggling with all of the changes in his life, that sleeping in his room—big and empty and so so quiet—had been too much for him. He’d made up for this by sneaking into Bruce’s room at night, before the man returned from patrol but after Alfred had checked on him, and sleeping under his bed.

Bruce for all his discipline and intelligence was a terribly irresponsible guardian, never bothering to check up on Dick before he went to bed,  and as a result, he’d actually gotten away with it for two weeks before one of his nightmares had him waking up Bruce as well.

After that he’d slept in Bruce’s closet, and somehow gotten another week out of it before Bruce had caught on. The only reason Bruce checked up on him every night was because it became a game for them after that. Finding the best places to hide and sleep and waiting for Bruce to locate him, take him back to his own bedroom, and stay with him until he fell back asleep. The top of his wardrobe and his laundry baskets were the best two places he ever found.

It was three months after Dick had moved in with Bruce, one day before he discovered the identity of Batman, when Dick finally gave up on waiting for Bruce to take the initiative. Instead of hiding somewhere creative, he had gone and curled up in the man’s bed. Bruce had walked into his room and stared at Dick in his bed. Dick pulled the covers down and patted the spot beside him. Bruce had carefully picked his way over to the bed, feet never making a sound, and sat down beside him.

After a moment of staring at Dick, he reached over to pick him up and Dick, sitting up, knocked his hands away. Bruce continued to stare, blues eyes just a touch wider than normal, lips pursed just enough to be noticeable. “Lie down.” Dick said.

Bruce took a moment before obeying.

Nodding, Dick lay back down and rested his head on Bruce’s chest. It was the soft scent of Bruce that started to lull Dick to sleep. Something strong and safe that reminded him of safety and love and understanding. It was as he began drifting off to sleep that he felt himself being gathered up in Bruce’s arm as the man slowly sat up.

“No.” he mumbled, squirming away until he was sitting up on his own. “Behave yourself.”

“What?”

Dick scowled at him. Laying back down and glaring at Bruce until the man lay back down and Dick could regain his previous position. “I’m staying here for the night.”

“And when was this decided?” Bruce had carefully draped one arm around Dick, still giving him the same look from earlier.

Huffing, Dick turned his head to look at him. “You’re not very bright, are you?”

* * *

He’d continued sleeping with Bruce up until a year ago. Once his heats started up, Bruce insisted that Dick sleep in his own bed. It wasn’t exactly an argument he’d won, Dick could be stubborn when he wanted to be and he had not wanted to sleep alone. It’s only recently that he’s been consistently sleeping alone.

And that is making Bruce and Alfred suspicious.

Dick grabs a hand towel resting on its silver stand on the marble countertop. Running the cold water, he soaks the soft white material before pressing it to his eyes and turning off the tap.

The suspicion can be easily dealt with. All he has to do is go sleep with Bruce.

Dick wants to. God, he would like nothing more than to just hop into Bruce’s bed, cuddle with the man, and let that wonderful scent surround him until everything was better. He knew he would feel so much better if he just got to curl up with the man.

But, there is a part of him that is scared. Scared of how he will react to Bruce. Worries he will give himself away, let on that something is wrong with him.

There is an even smaller part of him that is afraid of Bruce.

As a rule, Dick hates that part of himself with every fibre of his being. It represents that small part of him that doesn’t understand what happened, that thinks Bruce would willingly hurt him, that doesn’t fully trust Bruce after what happened.

It’s the part of him that blames Bruce.

His eyes are less red, he notices as he pulls the towel away from his face. He takes a slow deep breath, before exiting the bathroom. His room is still too large for him. Every time he walks in he feels himself desperately trying to catch a whiff of Bruce’s scent.

It’s stupid and ridiculous and Dick should just cross the hall and sleep in Bruce’s room.

Dick climbs back into bed and stares at the ceiling. He’s actually surprised when he feels himself drifting off to sleep.

Bruce is starting to get suspicious.

Dick jerks up into a sitting position. His hands begin to tremble and he has to work his way through all of Bruce’s breathing exercises before they stop. A glance at the clock shows he’s been awake for an hour. He gets out of bed, leaves the room, and crosses the hall.

His hand rests on the door knob for a brief eternity and Dick feels his eyes tearing up. He takes another deep breath, slow and controlled, just like Bruce taught him.

Bruce is starting to get suspicious and the last thing Dick wants is for him to go poking around. Negating his suspicion is easy; all he has to do is spend the night in here, just like he would if nothing was wrong.

His grip tightens on the doorknob, but he can’t open it. Dick turns on his heel to go back to his room.

It doesn’t matter if Bruce is suspicious. Dick covered his tracks. All the footage has either been deleted or doctored. He updated the files personally, as Bruce couldn’t recall anything from that night. Nobody knows except for him. And so what if Bruce finds out? It won’t matter, won’t change anything. If Bruce knows that he—

Dick whips back around and marches back to Bruce’s door. He twists the knob and pushes it open, creeping into the silent room.

Bruce’s scent brings tears to his eyes. It’s everywhere and it surrounds him and Dick is so relieved at how safe he feels. He’d been avoiding this room for over a month now, and this first step in here has brought back all the comfort of safety he has been missing.

He’s only half surprised when he crawls into the bed and sees Bruce’s eyes examining him. “Dick.” he murmurs and opens his arms up wide.

Dick half dives half flops into his arms and blinks back tears as he snuggles into the man.  He feels large fingers gently running through his hair and chances a glance up. Bruce has a small smile on his face. The first Dick has seen in a while. He ignores the small twinge of guilt he feels at the thought; instead, he focuses on memorizing that smile. From the soft look in his eyes to the gentle curve of his lips, everything about Bruce is content and relaxed.

This is why Bruce can never know. He’d never be able to forgive himself. He would destroy himself because of something he had no control over. Dick became Robin to help people, but he also became Robin to protect Batman. And he will do that. He will carry this secret with him to his grave and make sure that Bruce never loses that smile.

Gently, Bruce presses a kiss to Dick’s forehead. “Go to sleep, Dick. You’re safe.”

Closing his eyes, Dick takes another slow deep breath, feeling all the tension escape his body as Bruce tightens his arms around him.

For the first time in forty-five days, Dick believes that.


	2. Morning Shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit horrified at the fact that I just wrote another chapter. The last thing I did before I went to bed was write the last chapter and the first thing I did after waking up was write this chapter. I'm a bit concerned about my apparent lack of a life. Updates will probably never be this frequent again, so I hope everyone enjoys having a new chapter so soon.

When Dick awakens, he feels better than he has in days. Bruce’s chest rises and drops in a familiar pattern under his head and it takes little effort for him to match the man’s breathing. His fingers reach up and he starts to trace patterns through Bruce’s chest hair. The Batman symbol is first, followed by the Robin symbol, and then the Wayne Enterprise logo and Haly’s Circus’ logo. It feels good to be able to just lay here and do these small things, things he hadn’t known he loved until he’d stop.

It feels even better to have that stupid scared small part of him gone. Beaten down into a tiny ball, crushed between his fingers into dust, carried away on a cloud of Bruce’s scent, and kept away by the reassuring beating of Bruce’s heart.

His index finger barely brushes against Bruce’s nipple when a large hand gently grasps his. “Did you sleep okay?” He nods his head and rolls over onto his stomach, landing securely between Bruce’s legs, as the man sits up, back resting against the ebony headboard. “This,” Bruce murmurs, his eyes sweeping down the length of Dick’s body, “is not an appropriate position.”

Yawning, “I won’t tell, if you don’t tell.” Dick buries his face into Bruce’s stomach.

“How comforting.”

Gentle fingers comb their way through his hair and Dick peeks up at his mentor. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

“Isn’t it too early for you to be a smartass?”

“Yes. Now shush. It’s sleepy time.”

Bruce chuckles and Dick can feel an echoing warmth rush through his veins, as a smile slips across his lips. “It’s Saturday. You get to sleep in, but I have to go to work.”

He groans, flopping around onto his back so he can pout at Bruce. “What time is it?”

“12:43.”

“Aren’t you late, then?”

“Of course, I’m late, Dick. I’m an irresponsible playboy. You can’t possibly expect me to show up on time.”

It takes more energy than Dick really wants to spend, but he manages to push himself into a handstand, twist, and flip himself into a sitting position sprawled over Bruce’s lap. “Are you irresponsible enough to forget to show up to work?”

“I wish.”

Sighing, Dick rests his head against Bruce’s chest arms wrapping around his neck. After a few seconds, he feels Bruce return the hug. He’s perfectly relaxed again; when he takes a slow inhale, he smells Bruce, and he’s almost ready to get up and face the day. It’s easy for Dick to move from a sitting position to a kneeling position and bury his face in Bruce’s neck.

Right above the mating gland.

It was responsible for the wonderful scent that comforted Dick when he was scared and for the one that scared the crap out of criminals at night. At the moment, it’s just Bruce he smells, the small patch he uses that alters the scent released from his gland lies on its shelf in the Batcave.

There really is no acceptable reason for Dick to press his face into Bruce’s mating gland. But, he’s been doing it ever since the incident.

* * *

Dick was seven when he first became Robin. Partly because Bruce was a terrible guardian and all the people who worried he wasn’t fit to be responsible for a child weren’t completely wrong; mostly, Dick becomes Robin at seven because Dick is far more stubborn than Bruce and he’s decided that he’s going to fight crime whether Bruce likes it or not. And Bruce is given two options: Guide Robin into becoming a hero or let Robin run around unsupervised because the amount of time and effort it would take to keep him contained just wasn’t worth it.

The choice he made upset the rest of the League, though, later when Robin managed to break into Mount Justice and yell at them, accusing them of bullying Batman, they all changed their tunes.

But, that was after the incident, after the first time Dick was held hostage by the Joker.

* * *

Dick gives Bruce another squeeze before pulling away slightly. “Okay, I’m up.”

“You don’t have to get up.” Bruce stands and Dick clings to him, letting the man carry him, as he heads to the bathroom.

“There’s no point to sleeping in your bed if you’re not there.”

Bruce sets Dick down on the counter and turns to the toilet. There’s enough room between the two sinks for Dick to lie down comfortably, and really, that’s kind of ridiculous. He tosses an arm over his eyes and listens as Bruce finishes up his business. He doesn’t hear Bruce move over the flushing of the toilet, but he can feel him. Feel as he steps over to the large shower stall and begins to strip. “Out, Dick.”

“No.”

“Dick.”

“Bruce.”

He can feel Bruce rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t say another word. There’s the soft swish of the stall door opening up and then the sound of running water. He waits a few minutes and when steam fogs up the glass of the stall, he makes his way over to the toilet.

As the toilet flushes, he eyes the shower stall behind him. It’s large enough to easily fit seven or eight people. He walks over to the sink closest to him and washes his hands, before reaching for his Superman toothbrush and the toothpaste resting in a porcelain cup by the tap.

He has to take a shower and get ready for the day before he goes downstairs; otherwise, Alfred, with his ability to know everything, will give him a gross breakfast… lunch… brunch. Eyeing the shower stall off to his left, Dick acknowledges that he should shower in his own bathroom.

Stripping off his clothes, he opens the glass door and steps in as the steam starts to escapes.

“Dick.”

“Yeah, B?” he walks past Bruce under the stream of water and adjusts the temperature to something just slightly cooler.

“Why are you in here?”

He raises an eyebrow at the man, a skill he had to learn because it was not something he could do naturally. “To take a shower.”

“Dick.”

“Yes?” He grabs his washcloth from its spot on one of the lower cubby holes in the tiled wall and squeezes a generous amount of Bruce’s body wash onto it.

“Get out.”

Dick looks Bruce in the eyes and says, “No.”

“This is inappropriate.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, lathering soap across his stomach, “because I’ve never showered with you before.”

Bruce strides across the room, standing over Dick and forcing him to crane his head back to maintain eye contact.

For a second, Dick expects to be overwhelmed by fear. But, standing here, with Bruce’s strong figure towering over him, just leaves him feeling whelmed and he can’t stop the giant grin that takes over his face.

“We’ve had this discussion before, Dick.”

“Yeah, and you would think after losing it, you would have learned and given up.”

Bruce snorts, crossing his eyes and staring down at Dick who shrugs and goes back to lathering his body. Bruce sighs, shoving Dick out of his way so he can stand back under the spray from the main shower head. “You, Richard John Grayson, are a spoiled brat.”

Dick laughs because he really is. It’s absoulutely ridiculous what he gets away with. Dick suspects it goes back to Bruce being a terrible guardian.

* * *

When Dick first moved in with Bruce Wayne, it became quickly apparent that Bruce had no idea what he was doing. He was strict about some things, but lenient about others. He insisted that Dick eat all of his vegetables and even created a decent curfew for him—though that was just there to ensure he was out of the way and wouldn’t notice Bruce entering or exiting the Batcave—but he was terrible at follow up. He was never around for mealtimes and, as a result, had no idea that Dick had been barely eating. He never checked that Dick was in his bed after he sent him up to bed, which led to Dick sleeping in his room for a while.

He once caught Dick swinging from the chandelier in the main foyer and said nothing about the incident. When Alfred found out that Bruce had known what Dick had been doing and started off on one of his righteous lectures, Bruce defended himself by saying, “I checked the chandelier. The bolts will hold, he’ll be fine.”

Bruce was the type of guardian who wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the knowledge that his ward hadn’t done something he told him to, but would freak out at the mention that his ward had been swearing.

By the time Bruce got around to figuring out the whole parenting thing, it was too late. Dick was used to getting his way and he’d already figured out Bruce. He didn’t want to sleep by himself, so he didn’t. He wanted Bruce to carry him to breakfast, so he hopped on his back and didn’t let go.

The two main problems Bruce had when Dick was younger was that Bruce didn’t know how to refuse Dick and that Dick didn’t respect him.

And, really, it was Bruce’s own fault that Dick had thought he was an idiot.

He’d been feeling upset one day and had promptly decided he needed a hug. He had been looking for Alfred, but stumbled across Bruce in his study first. He walked up to Bruce and held his arms wide open.

Alfred would have taken the hint. Bruce just stared at him. It was only because he’d been watching Bruce closely that he noticed the change. It was then Dick noticed that his face wasn’t always blank. It was just that the changes in his facial expression were subtle enough to be unnoticeable unless you knew to look.

(Which had made his lack of respect for Bruce deepen. Dick had been convinced that Bruce was too stupid to know how to express himself. Respect for Bruce Wayne had come later in his life. It came from saving lives with Batman, from having long meaningful conversations in Russian with Bruce, from watching Brucie convince everyone that he was a bumbling fool.)

“Yes?” Bruce had said, watching as Dick grumbled and made his way around the desk.

Dick hadn’t said anything, just flailed his opens arms and glared at Bruce.

“What?”

“Hug.” Dick rolled the chair Bruce was sitting on out and spun it to face him.

“What?” There had been a widening of his eyes, his lips had parted just a touch, and he leaned back almost imperceptibly.

Sighing, Dick climbed into Bruce’s lap, and wrapped his arms around his stiff frame.

(And looking back, Dick chuckles because he can now recognize how terrified Bruce would have been.)

“You don’t know how to hug, do you?” he grumbled after a few minutes of holding onto Bruce while the man’s arms lay stiff at his sides.

Bruce had stared at Dick, silent, and he awkwardly wrapped one arm around Dick.

“Not like that.” A quick peek at Bruce’s face and Dick decided that it wasn’t his fault he was dumb. Some people were just like that. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”

(And for all of Dick’s thoughts about Bruce being some sort of idiot savant, he did learn quickly. He never forgot the correct way to hold Dick close so that Dick felt safe and content and he even learned how to pick up subtler clues that Dick needed a hug and he needed one now.)

* * *

“First of all, I’m your brat; and secondly, you’re the one who spoiled me, so you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Bruce chuckles and Dick feels a small spot of warmth grow in his chest at the sound. The smile on his face vanishes the second the washcloth makes contact with his nipple.

Bruce is crouching in front of him before he even manages to finish the pained hiss he has been letting out. “What’s wrong?” Strong fingers begin to gently probe the area around his chest and he knows that Bruce suspects there’s an injury hidden there that Dick didn’t bother to report to him last night.

“It’s nothing.”

“Dick.”

Looking into Bruce’s eyes, Dick can tell he’s not going to win this fight. Best to just give in graciously, one of the many things Bruce still needs to learn. He can feel his cheeks heating up and, as much as he would like to look anywhere but at Bruce, he forces himself to maintain eye contact. “It’s nothing.” he repeats, “My nipples hurt, it surprised me.”

Bruce’s hand twitches and moves to examine them, before it swaps directions and lands on his shoulder. “Well, okay, then. Your heat is probably coming up.” Bruce looks anywhere but at Dick. And the moment is awkward.

It’s awkward because they both know where Bruce’s hand was going and they both know that the other is aware of this. It’s awkward because Dick wouldn’t have cared if Bruce touched him there and Bruce knows this, but still felt the need to redirect his hand.

They’re both there, facing each other, but Bruce can’t look at Dick. He looks uncomfortable and upset, and Dick hates that expression on his face. He reaches one hand up and pokes Bruce in the cheek. He waits patiently for Bruce to turn his head and acknowledge him. “So, are you just going to stand there or are you going to wash my back?”

“I’m not standing.”

“Isn’t it too early for you to be a smartass?”

“Yes, and watch your mouth.”

“You said it first!” he huffs, handing his washcloth to Bruce and turning his back to him.

“And if jumped off a cliff would you jump too?”

Dick whirls around to face Bruce. “Of course I would!”

Bruce’s eyes harden and his jaw clenches. “And why, exactly, are you jumping off a cliff after me?”

“You’ve already jumped, B. You’ll be down there to catch me when I do.”

Bruce freezes, and Dick knows him well enough to turn back around. In the reflection of the stall door, he can just barely make out Bruce’s reflection. The washcloth is squeezed tight, dripping suds slipping through his fingers, and his eyes are closed. He watches the movements of his stomach and once he confirms the breathing technique Bruce is using, he waits for the next breath, closes his eyes and falls into step with him.

They stay there breathing together. And, silently, Dick believes this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, woah. Another chapter. I've decided I'm going to try to update once a day... But, they will probably never get this long. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Dick senses when the moment ends. The firm pressure of the washcloth on his back returns him to reality. He’s silent, enjoying this brief afterglow, as Bruce thoroughly scrubs his back. It feels nice; the steadying presence of Bruce behind him, always supporting him from behind unless he’s leading him from the front; the brief caress of skin contact whenever Bruce’s fingers accidentally make contact, gentle strokes that chase up and down the length of his back and make him softly tremble; and the strong grip on his hip, unnecessary, but helping Bruce maintain his balance and hold Dick still, as he tenderly squeezed his hip.

It feels nice. Nice enough for Dick to become aroused. But, he won’t because he knows better. Knows that if he becomes arouse Bruce will smell it. Bruce will smell it and this shower will be ruined and Bruce won’t look at him. Not for a very long time. And Dick wants things to stay the same, the way they haven’t been in a while.

Because Dick had pulled away and Bruce hadn’t known why.

Things are finally going back to normal, a normal that Dick ruined, and he’s not going to let this all go to waste.

It’s the breathing exercises that Dick falls back on. And, he kind of wants to laugh at the situation he’s in. Until this moment, he hasn’t been sure he would be able to be aroused ever again. He hasn’t wanted anyone to touch him. But, it’s like last night washed all of that away. He feels needy in a way he hasn’t in years.

* * *

The last time he’d felt this needy was during the whole Joker incident. Robin had existed for less than a year and despite all the ribbing Dick made about Bruce being a terrible guardian, he’d approached Robin’s desire for crime fighting almost perfectly.

To make up for the fact that Dick had been seven and stubborn as hell, Bruce gave him what he needed even though he never got what he wanted.

To make up for the fact that Robin was joining him on patrol, Batman changed the patrol time. Instead of patrol starting around 20:00 or 21:00, it began at 19:00. At that time, all they would do was run from rooftop to rooftop; rarely, they would run into some type of crime of opportunity, such as a rape or a mugging; but, for the most part they would remain unbothered. As a result, by the time the criminal underworld came out, Robin was exhausted and sleeping in the Batmobile.

It was a safe way for Batman to bring Robin out with him. In theory, by the time Robin had gained enough endurance to keep up with Batman, he would have received enough training in the cave to be safe in the field.

But, most plans don’t survive contact with the enemy.

And no plan survives contact with the Joker.

* * *

This is good. This feels like the first step back to normalcy.

When Bruce pulls away from Dick, he’s proud to note that he’s controlled himself. It feels like he’s being presented with a medal when he can turn around to face Bruce without any shame. Taking the washcloth from Bruce, Dick pretends not to notice Bruce’s gaze sliding down his body.

Bruce’s eyes shut tightly for a moment, before the man turns around to face the opposite direction. Dick is far less polite about washing Bruce’s back. He uses allows one hand to slide around his back, absent-mindedly working some of the tension knots in his back while the other hand lathers his back. Even once he’s finished with Bruce’s back, he doesn’t stop. He moves onto Bruce’s arms and takes his time, dragging out every second he can.

Eventually, Bruce pulls away and moves to stand up. Together, they huddle underneath the spray of water from the shower head.

The three other shower heads in the stall remain off.

“Wash my hair?” Dick offers a bottle of shampoo to Bruce and waits for the large fingers to rub soothing circles into his wet hair.

Unfortunately, the shower ends and they exit the stall. The towels are rolled up and waiting in a small glass shelf that is lined with gold and silver trims. Bruce dries himself off and after he wraps one towel around his waist and drapes the other one over his shoulders he turns to look at Dick.

Who stands, still dripping wet, towel in hand, and pouting at him.

“You really are a spoiled brat.” Taking the towel from Dick, he begins working on drying him off.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?”

“Nope. And I do not appreciate your slanderous accusations.”

Bruce wraps the towel around Dick’s chest and pulls another one from the shelf to drop on his heads.

“I’ve got this.” Dick says and waves Bruce’s hands away from his head, reaching up to dry his hair. “Off you go, you irresponsible playboy.”

“Brat.” Bruce snorts, but turns to exit the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once he’s alone, Dick makes his walks to the counter and stares at the mirror behind it. He looks better than he did last night. The bags under his eyes have become less noticeable and his skin has regained some colour. He unwraps the towel from around his chest and reaches up to prod the area.

He’s heard stories about omega males who develop large breasts. A B-cup is the average cup size for omega males. Dick didn’t want to develop anything larger than an A-cup, and he dislikes the lady who fitted him solely because she had the gall to tell him he looked like he was going to come back to get refitted soon.

It would have been better if he simply never developed any sort of breast, instead of the stupid average sized B-cups he has to tote around everywhere he goes. Already, he can see that he’s getting dangerously close to the point where he might be need to go back to that place. It was weird, though, they had gotten bigger pretty fast.

Now why couldn’t the energy being wasted to grow his breasts be used to make him taller?

He squeezed them gently, before letting them go. Other than his nipples, they didn’t hurt. It was probably nothing; he’d keep an eye on it, though, just to be safe.

Anyways, if they got too big he would get a breast reduction surgery; regardless, of whatever Bruce’s opinion.

His eyes drop to his waist and he grimaces. It’s ridiculous how curvy he looks. He understands that as a teenager going through puberty, he’s going to hate everything about how his body looks. That doesn’t make it any easier to live with. Dick has been done with puberty ever since his first heat and he will very much appreciate it when puberty is done with him.

Dick folds his towels in half before placing them in a basket that rests on a stand by the bathroom door. Opening the door, he stalks naked into Bruce’s room and picks up the two towels on the floor by the closet door. “You’re pathetic, Bruce.” he states and folds them before placing them where they belong. “One of these days I’m not going to be around to pick up after you and Alfred’s going to find out you leave clothes on the floor.”

“Well, I’d better take advantage of you while you’re still here, shouldn’t I?” On the opposite side of the room, Bruce buttons up his shirt.

There are a lot of ways Dick can respond to that, but most of those responses would end with Bruce being uncomfortable.

Dick laughs and opens the top right dresser drawer and pulls out his boxers.

There really was no good explanation for the fact that half of Bruce’s drawers were filled with Dick’s things.

He has pulled on his pants and is searching for a shirt when Bruce clears his throat. Dick finds a nice bright yellow shirt and pulls it out.

“Dick.”

“Yeah, B?”

“Put on a bra.”

Dick huffs, hands on his hips, and turns to face him. “I don’t need one.”

Bruce is dressed now, his white dress shirt is neatly tucked into his black slacks, and glowers at Dick as he straps an ornate watch onto his left wrist. “We are not having this conversation again.”

“Good. We’re agreed.”

He yanks the shirt out of the drawer and over his head. “Dick. Bra.”

“No.” He shoves his arms through the sleeves and pulls it down.

“Unless you’re planning to stay home all day, you better go put a bra on.”

“It’s not a big deal. No one’s going to notice.”

“Yes, they will.” Bruce, Dick notices, isn’t looking at his face. His eyes are locked onto Dick’s chest and Dick doesn’t know how he feels about that. He hasn’t liked his chest since before puberty.

“It’s my body.” He’s not exactly whining, but he’s getting there. “I don’t want to wear one.”

“Dick. Bra. Now.”

“Fine.” He turns on his heel and storms out of the room. Dick is pissed, a small voice in his head tries to point out that he’s being unreasonable, but the voice sounds like Bruce, which only makes him angrier.

That’s probably why when he goes into his room, he rips off his shirt and throws it onto his bed. In his top drawer there’s a lacy red quarter cup bra that he owns solely because he couldn’t be bothered to argue with the sales rep who had been helping him shop.

Because heaven forbid he buys only sports bras and be in and out of the store in five minutes.

The bra is buried all the way at the bottom of the drawer where Dick had figured it would stay until the end of his days. He puts it on and the sight of himself in the mirror fills him with disgust. The Bruce-like voice stats that he might as well go without a bra.

So, Dick grabs a pair of scissors from his desk and gives his yellow shirt a deep V-neck.

Again, the voice speaks up to inform Dick that he’s going to completely regret this in about five minutes.

Which means, Dick decides, he might as well do this all the way. He examines the shirt carefully and turns it into a belly top.

This is stupid. Dick realizes. He should turn around and put on something else. But, he’s still angry. He has no idea why he’s angry, but he is. And every time he tries to close his eyes and slip into a breathing exercise, he remembers Bruce staring at his chest.

Dick can’t decide if he’s dressed himself like this to give Bruce something to look at or to make a statement about being the only one allowed to decide what his body wears.

He steps into the dining room and Bruce stares at him. Or rather, Bruce stares at his chest. His mug of coffee is halfway to his mouth and hovers awkwardly while Dick takes a seat across the table from him.

There’s a soft clicking sound when Bruce places his mug on the table. Dick pretends not to watch Bruce out of the corner of his eyes, and begins gathering food from the breakfast bar laid out in front of him. Pancakes, eggs, and bacon are must have items. A glass of milk is filled to the brim beside his plate and Dick ignores it.

Whoever said that drinking milk will help you grow big and strong was a liar. Dick has drank so much milk in his life, and he’s still shorter than average for his age.

He’s reaching for an apple when he sees the grapefruit.

Dick doesn’t like grapefruit. He doesn’t like it because the aftertaste is gross. But, he wants it. He really really wants that grapefruit. It’s been cut into perfect halves and he’s salivating. So, he takes it, picks up his spoon, and uses it to scoop out a chunk of flesh.

It’s not the initial bite of fruit that he savours. Instead, it’s the bitter aftertaste that he still doesn’t like but finds himself craving.

“Dick.” Bruce’s voice isn’t steady and it’s quieter than usual.

“Yeah, B?”

“What are you wearing?”

“A bra.”

Bruce takes a slow breath. “Go change.”

Deliberately, Dick cuts off a piece from his stake of pancakes, chews and swallows. “No.”

Bruce tightens his grip on his utensils and goes back to eating his breakfast, but Dick can feel the weight of his gaze on him. They continue eating in silence that is not broken until Alfred enters to take away the dishes.

“Master Dick, what exactly are you wearing?”

Dick’s knee-jerk reaction is to make the same smartass remark he gave Bruce. The Bruce-voice in his head reminds him that he’s speaking to Alfred who is in charge of just about everything in the household. Now, that Dick isn’t so angry, he can listen to it without wanting to punch himself in the head. “I’m wearing what Bruce told me to wear.”

The look Alfred gives Bruce makes Dick relieved that he chose to listen to that voice in his head.

“Master Bruce, anything you would like to add.”

“All I told him to wear was a bra. The rest of the changes were all him.”

“Master Dick?”

“It’s my body. I’m the only one who decides what does or does not go on it.”

Alfred looks decidedly unimpressed with that statement. “Master Dick, I was under the impression that you will be visiting your friends later today.”

“Yeah, Wally and I are meeting up at the usual spot. We’re probably just going to grab Kal and break into Roy’s apartment.”

“You are aware that you are not permitted to leave the premises unless you change into something more… modest?”

Dick grumbles snatches another grapefruit half from the table and scoops another spoonful out.

Alfred clears his throat and Dick sighs and turns to him. “Yes, Alfred, I’ll change my clothes after I’m finished here.”

“Very good, sir.” Alfred manages to collect an obscene amount of plates and exits the room.

Bruce watches Dick eat another mouthful of grapefruit. “Have you developed a new love for grapefruit?”

“No.”

Bruce sighs, and Dick feels embarrassed by his actions. Every time he feels like things are okay, something small and stupid sets him off again. He blinks back tears and tries to control himself.

“Dick?” Bruce is leaning back, eyes wide, as Dick starts sobbing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The morning is ruined. Dick has singlehandedly ruined a perfect morning and Bruce is sitting across the table looking like he would like to be anywhere but here.

“Dick—”

“No. Just go. I’m fine.” It’ll be easier, he thinks, to calm himself down without Bruce in the room. He can go curl up in Bruce’s room and everything will be okay.

The chair scrapes across the floor as Bruce stands, and Dick draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. When Bruce picks Dick up and cradles him carefully against his chest, Dick feels what little composure he has left crumble.

He hasn’t cried since that night.

Bruce rocks him gently and after awhile Dick begins to feel more in control.

“Okay?” Bruce’s voice is a whisper in his ear and Dick, drifting off to sleep, nods his head. “You know, if I didn’t know that mood swings was one of your pre-heat symptoms, I’d be worried.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’d have to assume you were pregnant.”

And Bruce is making a joke. And as much as Dick would like to laugh at it or make a smartass remark, he’s frozen and taken too long to respond.

“Dick?” Bruce’s grip tightens and he pulls away from Dick so that their eyes lock.

He’s had his period. Exactly one week after that night, Dick remembers being so relieved at the sight of blood and the pain of cramps. It has been the only time he has ever been happy to be menstruating. The mood swings and the sensitive nipples are not a result of pregnancy. They’re a result of either his upcoming heat or maybe he has a minor form of PTSD that he has to work through. He is not pregnant.

He can’t be pregnant.

He’s taken too long to respond and Bruce is staring at him, eyes narrowing and mouth tightening into a thin line. He’s getting suspicious. Dick blurts out an excuse without thinking. “I won’t ever be pregnant. No one’s going to want me. I’m all used up and dirty and ugly and—”

The words surprise him more than Bruce.

Bruce looks angry and Dick feels ashamed for putting that expression on his face. He’s more ashamed because he means it.

“Dick, how long have you been feeling like this?”

He shrugs and tries to bury his face in Bruce’s neck. His scent is so strong there that it blocks out everything else in the room.

“Dick, do you want me to bite you?”

“No.” He makes sure his voice is firm, when he answers, anything else will give away how he feels.

“Why not?”

Because you’re trying to wean me off bites. Because I can’t be walking around with a bite, it’ll draw too much attention to us. Because I’m afraid you’ll reject me. There are a lot of reasons Dick doesn’t want Bruce to bite him, but Dick keeps quiet.

Which is a mistake because it causes Bruce to change his question. “Do you need me to bite you?”

“Yes!” he cries, “Please, Bruce, please! Please, please, please, please!” He can beg for hours, he used to beg for hours. It’s awful and he hates it, but this isn’t something that will go away.

Dick’s problem is that addiction never goes away. You just get more used to the cravings.

* * *

Robin had been in the field for less than a year. Batman had been held up earlier during the day, and as a result, patrol had started off later than he was used to. This meant that when the Joker started a hostage situation in a movie theatre, he was still awake.

Batman tried to contain the mayhem. He ordered Robin away, to somewhere safe, like any responsible adult would.

But, Robin has never been good at following orders he doesn’t like.

He’s kidnapped and held hostage by the Joker. A jealous Joker who insists that he is Batman’s favourite and that Robin needs to stay out of his way.

(Robin is seven-years-old which is why he decides to inform the Joker that Batman doesn’t like him. He also helpfully mentions that he sleeps with Batman every night, so he’s the favourite. The worst part of this is that Robin still has a tendency to shoot his mouth off whenever some jerk holds him hostage.)

“What do you mean Batsy doesn’t like me?” Joker snarled, pacing around Robin.

“He thinks you’re stupid and annoying and mean.” Dick squirmed against his bindings, almost toppling over from his struggles.

“That’s impossible. How can he not like me? Everyone likes me!”

“I don’t like you.”

Joker laughed a long high-pitched laugh that scared Robin more than anything else he had done. “Now that is a funny joke.”

“It wasn’t a joke.” Dick snapped, trying to get to his feet. Escaping the bonds becoming less important in comparison to escaping the room the longer Joker laughed.

“Of course it is!” Joker’s grin widened and he quit pacing to tower over Robin. “After all,” he continues, dragging Robin to his feet, “I am your favourite person.”

And that was when the Joker bit Robin.

* * *

The mating gland is responsible for the production of a chemical similar to oxytocin and dopamine in function. There was a lot of science involved that Dick knows solely because Bruce wants him to understand what has happened to him, but the short version is that bite Joker gave him resulted in an addiction to being bitten that Dick will never be able to escape.

He probably would have been fine if it had just been one bite, but he’d been trapped with the Joker for over a week. And he’d been bitten over and over and over again. He’d been an mess by the time Bruce had taken him home. The only way to help him cope had been to continue biting him and gently wean him off his addiction.

There are plenty of negative long-term effects to the mental health of a child being bitten. That’s the reason Bruce has done his best to wean Dick off being bitten, but the truth of the matter is that it’s too late. It’s called the mating gland for a reason. And every time Bruce is forced to bite Dick to give him some relief, he reinforces his place as Dick’s mate in his mind.

And this problem won’t go away. Dick will need to spend the rest of his life needing someone to bite him, but he will never want anyone but Bruce to do it. There are so many thoughts swirling around in his head and Dick wants to organize them all, but he can’t focus beyond that eager anticipation of the bite.

Tenderly, Bruce bites down on Dick’s mating gland, and Dick feels himself fall in love all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what I'm writing anymore. This story is just doing what it wants. If I had it my way, by now, Dick would know he's pregnant.


	4. Chapter 4

There’s a moment of stillness after Bruce pulls away from Dick’s neck. They lock eyes and Dick wants nothing more than to kiss Bruce. Or even better, for Bruce to kiss him. Bruce sighs softly and presses his lips against Dick’s cheek.

It’s not what he wants, but he feels so relieved that it’s what he gets.

“I ruined your shirt.” he says, fingers circling the numerous wet patches littering his shirt.

“It’s fine. I can change it before I leave.”

“You’re going to be super late for work. You should have just left me.”

“Dick.” Bruce’s voice is firm and he grips Dick’s chin and forces him to maintain eye contact. He takes a minute to compose himself before speaking again. “I would never leave until you were alright.”

Bruce is something else. Dick’s grinning, his eyes tearing up just a little, and presses his face back into his neck. It may be highly inappropriate that he presses his lips to Bruce’s mating gland, but Bruce says nothing and lets Dick get away with it. After a minute he pulls back and kisses Bruce on the cheek. “You know, it’s a good thing I know you so well.”

“And, why’s that?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t know that this is the part where I say, ‘I love you too.’” Bruce gives Dick a look. It’s his favourite look. It’s the look that tells Dick that Bruce loves him, even though the man is incapable of saying it in those words. “Because that’s what a normal person would say in this situation, you weirdo.”

“A normal person, now what’s that?”

Dick laughs so hard he starts crying. He’s not sure if it’s being here with Bruce, the hormones that are rushing through his blood as a result of being bitten, or something else, but he’s happy. His mood has been flopping all over the place and it’s driving him mad. He’s always been under control. He’s learned how to stay level-headed under pressure and to suddenly be losing what control he has over himself scares him.

Scares him more than he understands.

He needs to talk to someone, he admits, but he can’t. Just about anyone he can talk to is wary enough about Bruce that they’ll repeat everything he says to the man. Clark, Diana, Dinah, Barry, Leslie, J’onn, Shayera, and Alfred are the only adults he trusts enough to talk to about this. But all of them will tell Bruce. In a heartbeat.

His friends, his real friends, on the other hand are a bit trickier to categorize. Wally would tell. Wally is his best friend and if he thinks that Dick needs Bruce—and Dick will admit that he probably does—he will tell the man in a heartbeat. Roy, Kaldur, and Artemis can go either way. M’gann and Connor will agree not to tell anyone, but they also won’t understand the problem. And Barbara is the daughter of the Police Commissioner, she will tell her father at the very least, and Dick does not need the Commissioner poking his nose into his life.

He’s on his own. But that’s okay, Bruce has trained him to be able to function on his own.

“Thanks, Bruce.” he says, when he calms down.

“Anytime, Dick.” They share another brief hug and separate. Dick swings his body into a handstand on Bruce’s shoulders and launches himself into the air, adding a double somersault for that dramatic flair he has never been able to rid himself of.

“Showoff.”

“You’re just mad jelly that you can’t do that.”

“I can to, Dick, a double somersault is not that hard to do.” Bruce rolls his eyes, as Dick proceeds to do round-off, backhand spring, back flip combination in the middle of the dining room.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why I never see you doing it.”

“I never do it because it’s flashy and unnecessary.” Dick has moved on to treating the rest of the room like his own personal gymnasium, pulling all sorts of stunts Alfred will disapprove of when he finds out.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, B.”

“That’s it come here.”

“Why?” Dick doesn’t wait for an answer as he walks over to Bruce.

“I need something to launch myself off of to get the air time for a double somersault.”

Dick freezes and stares up at Bruce who has placed his hands on his shoulders. “No way, Bruce, you’ll squash me.”

“Now, now, Dick, you’ll be fine. This is important, we can’t have you doubting my abilities.”

“No, no, no!” Dick knocks Bruce’s hands from his shoulders and darts out of the room cackling.

“Dick, get back here!” Bruce is laughing to and they are running all over the house and Alfred is going to kill them if he sees them, but it’s worth it.

It’s definitely worth it.

Bruce catches him in his bedroom. In hindsight, Dick should have ran outside instead of to Bruce’s bedroom, but he can’t regret this decision when it leads to Bruce picking him up and tossing him on his bed.

They wrestle and it’s completely ridiculous because Dick can’t overpower Bruce and the bed is too soft and bouncy for him to outmaneuver Bruce. Still, they’re having fun and twisting and shoving and laughing, and there’s a closeness between them that Dick has been missing so much.

Everything comes to an end, though, when Dick’s shirt rips.

It’s to be expected, honestly. Dick did a terrible job of cutting it. The fact that it has lasted this long is impressive. The deep V-neck he gave it just barely ended above where he cut off the bottom half. The V-neck had grown deeper over the course of their wrestling match until the tear reached the end of the cloth.

Dick lies on his back and Bruce straddles him, looking down at Dick with a wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but it doesn’t take long for his eyes to drop down to Dick’s chest.

He’s wearing a lacy red quarter cup bra, which does absolutely nothing for modesty. His nipples are just barely hidden and Bruce is observant enough that he can probably make them out.

Dick fights down the urge to blush and closes his eyes while Bruce stays still above him.

When he opens his eyes, he notices that Bruce’s pupils have dilated.

* * *

 

They were in a safe house located not far from the warehouse Scarecrow had been using as his base. They were in a safe house because Robin was afraid to take Batman home when he was like this. All it would take was a single glance and Alfred would know. He would know what happened to Robin and he would know that Batman was the one who did it.

It was one of the better safe houses. It had the technology Robin needed to help Batman. Batman was unconscious when Robin gathered his blood for a simple analysis. He’s been stripped out of his uniform because the last thing Robin needed was for Batman to go back to acting like a lunatic, but have regained enough of his senses that he makes use of his gear.

The computer was running the blood sample, Batman was unconscious, and Robin needed a moment for himself. Desperately.

Which was why he went into the bathroom for a shower.

He’d taken off his mask and the torn remains of his suit that he was going to have to replace when he’d heard sound in the other room. He’d gone back and was surprised to be tackled from the side. He twisted and squirmed and struggled, but he couldn’t escape the hold Bruce had on him.

Dick looked up at Bruce who was fighting to pry his legs apart and they made eye contact.

Bruce’s pupils were dilated.

* * *

Dick is terrified. He’s terrified and he has no idea why. He wants to run and hide somewhere safe.

He wants to run and hide from Bruce. He loves Bruce, he loves him so much, but he wants to run from him.

He’s never hated himself more than in this moment.

“Dick?” Bruce’s voice is soft, as if he’s been stabbed. He’s leaning back, getting up, and Dick knows he’ll be out the door in seconds, if he’s given the chance. He’ll avoid Dick for the rest of his life if he thinks that it will make him feel better.

“Bruce!” he whines, and tackles the man before he can do more than stand.

Dick is afraid of Bruce. But, he’d rather live in fear of Bruce for the rest of his life than live a life without him.

Dick clings to Bruce because that has always been his instinctive reaction when something scares him. Bruce holds him, close and tight and perfect, exactly how Dick had taught him to years ago. He sits down on the bed and lets Dick calm down at his own pace, one large hand stroking the back of his head.

“I’m okay, now.” Dick claims when he no longer feels like he’s seconds away from having a panic attack.

“I told you, Dick, I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re going to be okay.”

There’s a tightness in Dick’s chest that he hasn’t noticed until Bruce speaks. He only notices it because, at his words, it begins to ease.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce stays true to his word. He stays with Dick until the boy is calm and happy and so relaxed he falls asleep. Dick wakes up in by himself in Bruce’s bed. He feels better, lighter, and he rolls over onto Bruce’s pillow and buries his face into it.

It smells like him, the whole room smells like him, and Dick feels himself getting lost in his scent. When he finally sits up, he can see himself in the mirror that stands opposite to the bed. He’s wearing one of Bruce’s workout shirts. It’s long enough to reach past his thighs and large enough that it slips off his shoulders. It’s soft enough after so many washes that it doesn’t irritate his nipples as much now that he’s not wearing a bra. Dick likes the way it looks on him.

He mostly likes it because Bruce must have changed him into it.

The pants he was wearing earlier are folded up on the bottom half of the bed, but his bra is nowhere in sight. He glances at the clock and he’s not sure whether or not he should be surprised that it’s 3:30. He still feels a bit tired, but he’s felt tired for weeks now. Every night he spent locked up in his room, too afraid to enter Bruce’s room and lie down beside him, was miserable, cold and lonely. Last night was the first where he actually managed to sleep through the night. A couple more days of sleeping with Bruce again and the exhaustion will go away.

He stands up on the bed and back flips off it, and starts stretching once his feet are planted on the ground. He takes his pants and leaves Bruce’s room and enters his own, tossing his pants onto the bed. His phone—sleek black, the latest model Wayne Tech has out—lies on his desk and he picks it up to check it.

Wally has sent him so many messages it’s ridiculous.

_Wally: when are we meeting?_

_Wally: and where? i should probably ask that 2._

_Wally: dude?_

_Wally: dick?_

_Wally: r u ignoring me?_

_Wally: dude! whats going on? we still meeting up?_

_Wally: dick? dick, whats up?_

_Wally: what the hell man, r u ok?_

_Wally: r u ok? r u ignoring me?_

_Wally: did something happen? is everything okay? y rnt u answering? dude?!!_

_Wally: im coming over 2 ur house if u dont answer. uve been acting weird 4 awhile but this is the last straw._

_Wally: im leaving my house now! last chance 2 stop me!!!_

He sent his last text about a minute or two ago, which is actually pretty convenient. Dick is an amazing friend which is why he responds with a text that says: _For a guy with super speed, it’s sad you can’t take that extra millisecond to utilize proper grammar._ _Go grab Kaldur and meet me at Roy’s place._

_Wally: Dude! Don’t scare me like that! And, seriously, you’re going to nitpick me? Where were you?_

_Dick: Taking a nap. Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to scare you._

_Wally: What? Why would you even say that?_

_Dick: Isn’t it obvious, Baywatch? You were so concerned over me, I thought it was because you finally admitted your love for me._

_Wally: Don’t call me, Baywatch!_

_Dick: Okay, I’m sorry._

Dick puts his cell down and puts on his pants from earlier, before rummaging through his drawers for a bra and shirt.

When he looks back at his phone he grins and starts to cackle.

_Wally: Seriously?_

_Dick: Absolutely._

_Wally: …_

_Wally: Why? :-/_

_Dick: Because I should know better than to use your girlfriend’s pet name for you._

_Wally: SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!!!_

Dick is still laughing when he logs onto his laptop and checks the sensor he installed in Roy’s apartment without his knowledge or permission. Based on the readings he’s at home, which will make hanging out with him much easier; though, the look that would be on his face when he came home only to find them in his apartment would have been a good outcome as well.

He’s ready to leave, so he does a last minute double check to make sure he has everything. His wallet, keys, sunglasses, and cell are all on him, and when he goes down to the zeta tube in the cave, he can hide a utility belt under his clothes.

When he gets downstairs, it takes him less than a minute to let Alfred know he’s leaving and send a text informing Bruce of where he’s going and who he’ll be with. After that he goes down to the cave to grab his utility belt and zeta to Star City.

* * *

Roy lives in one of the run-down slummy areas of Star City. In comparison to Gotham’s slum, it looked like an upscale neighbourhood.

Wally and Kaldur’ahm are waiting for him at the front doors of Roy’s apartment building. “Dick!” Wally calls, waving at Dick like he thinks that Dick is the unobservant one between them.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hello, Dick.” Kaldur says.

It’s nice that he can hangout with these guys and not have to worry about his secret identity. Connor is a clone and they have no idea what sort of hidden programming the genomes have placed in him; Artemis’ father is Sportsmaster, and so she has to prove herself before Bruce will allow him to tell her; and M’gann was not only too new to this hero business, she was also not very good at the whole secret keeping thing—then again, she has managed to hide the fact that she’s a White Martian from the rest of the team.

It is only with the other original partners—not sidekick because he is nobody’s sidekick. Roy may bitch that their mentors consider them sidekicks, but Bruce knows that if he ever treats Dick like that, he’ll go solo. Dick is first and foremost Bruce’s partner; he’ll accept the term protégé, but he will never accept the title sidekick—that he can be himself. They know him both in and out of uniform and he knows them. They’re not just his best friends; they are his brothers.

Maybe someday he’ll be able to consider the whole team as his family.

“Shall we?” he asks, gesturing towards the door.

“We shall!” Wally laughs, linking arms with him and Kaldur and skipping down the hall.

“Wally, is this necessary?” Kaldur tries to pull away from them, but Wally just holds on tighter laughing.

“Absolutely, Kal.” Dick snickers. “What’s wrong? Afraid to be seen in public with Wally?”

“Dude!”

“Yes.”

“Dude, why me? Why not the troll?”

“Because I am an adorable omega and an upstanding citizen. And, I most definitely do not appreciate your insinuations that I am anything less.”

“I feel like everything you just said explains why you’re the biggest troll on the planet.”

“Behave, you two.” Kaldur rolls his eyes and presses the elevator button.

“When have I ever misbehaved?”

“Do you want a list? Because if you do, we’ll be here for awhile.”

“What’s that, Wally? You want me to smuggle a scrapbook of embarrassing photos of you into Artemis’s room tonight? Well, alright, if you’re sure.”

“Dude! No. Just no. And what do you mean scrapbook? Just how many embarrassing photos do you have of me?”

Dick laughs—he resists that impulsive urge to cackle because that would be dangerous to let just anyone hear—and he refuses to answer Wally. Wally starts sputtering and demanding answers and Dick and Kaldur share an amused look as they watch him work himself up.

“We truly would be here all day if we had to create a list of your misbehaviours.” Kaldur chuckles as they exit the elevator.

Dick elbows Wally and when the redhead turns to him, he presses his finger against his lips. Wally snickers and speaks quietly, “He has no idea we’re coming over, does he?”

“Nope.”

“Dick.” Kaldur sighs, but there’s an upward twitch of his lips as they stand in front of the door.

There’s a bobby pin hidden in the strands of Dick’s hair and he takes it out to pick the lock of the door. He counts to three in his head. It probably says way too much about them that neither Kaldur or Wally need to see a visual countdown to know what to do. Kaldur times the opening of the door perfectly, and Dick and Wally are in complete unison when they cry, “Honey, I’m home!”

Roy is sitting in his living room with the TV remote in his hand. When jumps off his couch, flips over his coffee table, knocks it over, and takes cover behind it when they burst through his front door. “Get the fuck out of my house!” he yells and whips the remote at them.

“This isn’t a house!” Dick laughs, strolling into the apartment with Kaldur, as Wally catches the remote.

Roy’s apartment is a mishmash of new and old things. The curtains are new and so is the couch. The TV is old broken down pile of junk with several brand new games and consoles beside it, yet it’s a miracle the coffee table can stand on its own. The refrigerator is an expensive one but the stove is ancient.

“What the fuck, guys?”

“We can to hangout with you because we love to annoy you—I mean, we love you.” Roy glares at Dick and that makes him laugh harder. “Oh, who am I kidding? I totally meant we love to annoy you.”

“They will never find your bodies.”

“Now, Roy,” Kaldur raises his hands, “it has been awhile since the four of us have gotten together.”

“Whatever. You can stay. The other two have to get out.”

“That hurts, Roy.” Wally calls from the kitchen. “That hurts so much.”

Dick snickers and turns to head to the bathroom. “Where are you going?” Roy asks him.

“Bathroom.”

“Why?”

“I have to pee.” It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the complete truth.

“Seriously?” Wally walks back into the room, a bag of open Doritos in his hands. “Did you forget to go before you left the house?”

“Are you seriously going to just walk into my house, go into my kitchen, and eat my last bag of Doritos?”

“Yep. Kal, chip?”

“Thank you, Wally.”

“I am not explaining my bathroom habits to you.”

“I’m just saying, until recently, I thought you didn’t have to use the bathroom. I nearly had a heart attack when you snuck off to go last week when we were—”

“At the movies.” Dick interrupts him.

“Yeah,” Wally coughs, rubbing the back of his head, “when we were at the movies.”

“You go to the bathroom all the time when we’re at the movies.”

“Yeah, but I’m me. I mean, how many times have you gone to the bathroom today?”

“Okay, first, that’s none of your business.” Dick huffs, placing his hands on his hips. “And second, I’ve gone once all day, so there.”

“Yeah, but how much of the day have you actually been awake for?”

Dick starts to answers the question, but when he starts to do the math the number of hours he’s been awake for is horrifically small. “Shut up, Wally.”

“So,” Wally grins and starts ticking points off his fingers, “recently, you’re either peeing or tired. If you’ve had any weird food cravings and we can safely assume you’re pregnant.”

There’s that word again. Dick wants to cringe away, and a small part of him wants to panic, but he can’t. He can’t afford to lose control again like he did earlier with Bruce. Thankfully, Bruce isn’t here. It’s hard to control himself when Bruce is around because all he wants to do is curl up with Bruce and wait until the man takes care of his problems. He trusts Bruce to take care of him in a way he trusts no one else.

This is Wally. And Dick knows how to deal with Wally.

“Kal, can you go grab me the remote. Doofus over there left it in the kitchen.”

Kaldur raises an eyebrow at him, but willingly gets the remote for Dick. He weighs it in his hand, before taking aim and whipping it at Wally.

Wally dodges, of course he dodges, there was no way that would hit him, but Roy’s crappy TV is not so lucky. The remote hits the screen hard enough to that they both break.

“What the fuck?” Roy yells.

“I’ll buy you a new one if you swipe that bag of Doritos from Wally and eat them in front of him.”

“Dude!”

“Wally, get your ass over here!”

Dick fakes a laugh and makes his way to the bathroom.

The first thing he does when he enters is check Roy’s first aid kit. He’s running low bandages and pain killers, both over-the-counter and hospital grade ones.. He doesn’t have any medical tape or thread or any disinfectant. There’s no cough medicine or basic cold and flu pills or anything of the sort. He doesn’t even have ice packs or heating pads. Dick wants to walk out of the bathroom and smack the idiot.

He almost does when he realizes all the pads and tampons he’s left at Roy’s place are gone.

Some of the materials he can replace now. So, he takes the surgical thread from his utility belt and slips it into the kit. He has a small bottle of potent pain killer pills, as well, and he makes sure to label exactly what it is with the small pen he also has on him.

He finishes up in the bathroom and rejoins the others in the living room. “Dick, you need to stop breaking my shit every time you come over.”

“Eh. I’ll think about it. Now, let’s go get you a TV!”

“I know what you guys are doing.”

“Then, perhaps, you should accept that we will continue to do it, as long as we see fit.” Kaldur states, placing his hands on Roy’s shoulder.

“You guys are the absolute worst.”

“Yeah,” Wally laughs, throwing an arm around Roy’s shoulder, “but you love us anyways.”

“Whatever.” Roy elbows Wally in the side, smirking softly as he herds them out of his apartment and down to his crappy car.

* * *

There’s a Walmart located not too far from Roy’s place, so they go there. There standing at the entrance when Dick gives them their orders. “Roy, go find yourself a TV and some new games for us. Wally, go grab us some snacks. Kaldur, go pick up a bunch of new blankets and linens.”

“What the fuck, Dick? Why is he buying linens?”

“Because I’m taking all of yours to use the next time I nest.”

Roy’s eyes widen in surprise, but he nods in understanding. “And where will you be while we’re doing all of this?”

“Buying pads and tampons since it appears all of mine have disappeared from your bathroom. Like, seriously, Roy, can’t Jade just bring her own?”

Roy blushes and starts spluttering and Dick takes that as his cue to leave. Wally and Roy are laughing at him and by the time they’ve noticed he’s gone he’s far enough that he barely hears Wally’s exclamation of, “Not again! He does this all the time!”

Dick is in the pharmaceutical aisle most of the things Roy’s apartment is desperately missing—including his sanitary products because apparently Jade can’t use her own—are in his basket when he sees them.

Pregnancy tests.

Dick isn’t pregnant. He knows he’s not pregnant, but people keep making jokes about it and it’s makes him anxious. If he takes this test, he’ll be able to finally lay all of this to rest. He’ll get his own peace of mind and be able to put this whole horrible chapter of his life behind him.

He’s not pregnant. He had his period.

He can’t take the pregnancy test home. There is absolutely no way in hell, he’s bringing it into the house. Bruce or Alfred or both of them will find it. He can’t take it at Roy’s place either, the odds of one of the others noticing it in his bag is too high. He’s in a Walmart, though, and Walmarts have bathrooms. He’ll be a bit late meeting the others, but if he hacks into the store’s security feeds and sends taunting messages about how he’s watching them, they won’t think too much about it.

He grabs a pregnancy test for three different brands. The last thing he needs is a false positive to screw up his day. He makes his way to the cashiers, watching the store for any sign of his friends. There’s a small fridge located by the line and Dick reaches in and takes a bottle of water out.

The look the cashier gives him when he scans the pregnancy tests make Dick want to crawl into a hole. His sunglasses are own, at least, so it’s not like he recognizes him as Dick Grayson, ward of filthy rich playboy Bruce Wayne—because that would not end well. Word would get to Bruce and Bruce will not stop hunting down who Dick had slept with until he got an answer—but, even without the recognition, it makes him feel ashamed.

Like it’s his fault that he might be pregnant.

He’s not pregnant, but just the way the man looks at him makes Dick want to cry—or curl up in Bruce’s arms and let him take care of this.

But, maybe it is his fault. He should have fought harder or moved faster or anything really. He could have done so much more to protect himself, so maybe, he deserves that look.

He slips through the store unnoticed, eyes still wide open—and slightly wet—because it would be terrible if he just walked into one of his friends, and makes his way safely to the bathrooms. He locks himself in the bathroom and pulls the baby change table down and places his bags on it. He drains the bottle of water immediately, before opening each box and reading the instructions carefully.

He spends ten minutes teasing Roy and Wally as they demand to know where he is before he’s finally able to pee. He holds back the instinctive grimace when he sees the amount of discharge in his boxers, but reminds himself that this is normal with his heat so close. He’s careful with aiming and conserving his urine so he has enough for each test, but he feels a bit bad for girls. The whole lack of a penis thing would make this like a hundred times more difficult for them, even for the one test that comes with a cup.

He follows all of the instructions perfectly. The first test needs to sit for ten minutes so he gently holds the handle between his teeth. The second test needs five minutes and he holds it between his index and middle finger, while he aims onto the third one that only needs two minutes.

Two minutes later, and the third pregnancy has a plus sign on it.

“It’s a false positive.” he whispers, “It’s just a false positive. This is why I got the other tests.” He throws the test and the empty boxes into the garbage and uses his free hand to hold the test that’s held between his teeth.

Three minutes later and there are two lines on the screen. “False positive.” His hands are shaking when he throws the test out. “I’m not pregnant. I’m not pregnant.” He struggles to tuck himself back into his clothes with one hand.

Wally sends him a slew of worried texts, but Dick’s hands can’t stop trembling long enough for him to reply.

Five minutes later, the word ‘PREGNANT’ stares back at him from the display screen.

And in ten minutes, Dick’s world has crashed and burned to ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! And we finally get to the point that I thought would be the end of the first chapter I posted. Geez, it took forever to get here, and now Dick's in a Walmart bathroom, which is probably like the worst place ever to find out you're fourteen and pregnant. But, whatever, he knows and we can finally move on with the story. Yay!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter. By some strange twist of luck, the chapters seem to be alternating in length, but well, whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Dick feels like he’s seconds away from having a panic attack. There’s this cold sensation in his chest that’s bubbling up and attempting to tear its way out of his throat. He’s shaking and cold and gasping for breath and he’s going to lose control any second now.

But he can’t. Bruce Wayne’s ward cannot have a freak out in a public bathroom. Reporters and gossip columnists will get suspicious and investigate. Bruce will get suspicious and investigate. He closes his eyes and fights to regain control of himself. He can hear Bruce’s voice in his head instructing him on how to deal with his volatile emotions.

The breathing exercises fail when his first inhale fills his nose with unfamiliar scents. There are too many scents here and not a single one makes him feel safe. He needs an alpha he trusts.

He needs Bruce.

But he can’t go to Bruce like this. He needs to calm down a bit before he sees Bruce or he might just falls to pieces. He also needs a plan.

Trying to grab his bag is a hard and clumsy task because of his shaking hands. It’s like trying to collect his thoughts.

He somehow manages to check the store’s security feed on his phone one last time before exiting the washroom. The others have split up and are most likely looking for him.

Of the four of them, Roy is the only alpha, so it’s Roy that Dick heads to. He’s moving on autopilot. Taking to shadows, avoiding cameras and shoppers. Dick Grayson has shut down, so Robin takes over.

Conception date is Thursday, September 22, 2016. Today is Saturday, November 5, 2016, which puts him at six weeks pregnant. Pregnancy lasts nine months, he’ll have to do some research to make sure that’s fact and not just a common misconception. He’ll have to do research for a lot of things. He can’t use one of the laptops at home, though, all it will take is for Bruce to need something from his computer and see his browsing history, and he shouldn’t risk Roy’s computer either.

His shaking begins to subside as he plans and Dick clings to this false sense of calmness that washes over him. He makes a detour to the electronic section, picks a laptop at random, and has a sales associate unlock it and take it over to the cashier in the area so he can pay. Another glance at the security feed shows that Roy is in the area and will appear around a corner in seconds.

When Roy notices Dick running towards him, the anger drains from his face. He slips off the red hoodie he’s been wearing and drapes it over Dick’s head. Dick wraps both arms around Roy’s waist and shoves his face into Roy’s stomach.

Despite the fact that Wally is his best friend and Kaldur sees him almost every day, it’s Roy who knows him the best.

After all, Roy was the first of them he met.

* * *

Robin was nine years old when Speedy joined Green Arrow. Kid Flash and Aqualad were both still two years away from being created.

Batman and Robin went to Star City to meet up with Green Arrow and his new partner. Batman had been worried that Speedy was in over his head and had just been checking out that Green Arrow had had some sort of a plan to introduce Speedy to crime fighting.

Robin had been so excited to finally meet a kid his age who he would be able to talk to about this aspect of his life. Batman had given Robin permission to take Speedy on a separate patrol route, as long as he maintained radio contact and called the second he spotted any sort of supervillian activity. He was supposed to trust his gut and listen to his instincts. It had been an exercise of trust and honesty on both their parts: Batman letting Robin fly solo, Robin acknowledging his limits and the boundaries set for him.

Speedy had been shocked when Green Arrow had turned to him and said, “Kid, you’re going to go with Robin and patrol the south side. It’ll be the same route that we did yesterday. Listen to Robin and if you get into any trouble, contact me. Batman and I will come immediately.”

“You’re going to let me patrol on my own?” he’d asked, almost vibrating with excitement.

“No. I’m going to let you patrol with Robin who has more than enough experience to patrol Star City on his own with some back up.”

Speedy had almost dropped his bow. “Robin, as in the Boy Wonder, is coming here to Star City.”

“Yep.”

“And so is Batman.”

“Uh-huh.” Green Arrow had been grinning as watched the excitement spread across Speedy’s face, even as the boy tried to contain it and play it cool.

Robin hadn’t been able to keep hidden at that point. He’d silently leapt down onto the rooftop the two were conversing on, landing behind Green Arrow. Speedy had watched shocked as Robin had snuck up behind Green Arrow and jumped on his back.

The scream Green Arrow let out was something Speedy would never let the man live down.

* * *

Roy doesn’t ask Dick if he’s okay. He doesn’t ask if he needs anything. He just wraps one arm around the boy’s shoulder and pulls out his phone to send Wally a text to find Kaldur and meet them at the cashier. Dick doesn’t look like he’s going to be ready to move any time soon, so Roy scoops him up into his arms and carries him to the others.

When he sees them waiting in line, he doesn’t head over immediately. He places Dick down on his own two feet and ruffles his hair. “Time to put your game face on.” he says. Dick pulls back and laughs.

* * *

Roy was told their secret identities very shortly after he met Batman and Robin. He was told the secret before Green Arrow was. To anyone on the outside, Bruce’s decision to let Roy know hadn’t made any sense. But, to both Dick and Alfred it made perfect sense.

Roy had lived on the streets before Oliver had taken him in. Keeping his mouth shut had been critical to staying alive and under the radar during his three year stint as a street rat. But, more importantly, at least to Bruce, Roy was an orphan.

An orphan who knew very little about his parents and was forced to look for guidance elsewhere as a result.

“He doesn’t know, Roy. We haven’t told him, yet.” Dick had whispered to him after cheerfully distracting Oliver when he had come over to check on his ward. “Don’t tell?”

Roy snorted. “I’m no snitch.”

That was why when Dick sadly admitted to the other kids were picking on him at school—they called him a charity case, a circus freak, and even a gypsy whore—Roy took it upon himself to deal with.

“Time to put your game face on.” Roy told Dick, when he showed up unannounced at Gotham Academy. He proceeded to terrify all the kids who had so much as thought a bad thing about Dick without laying a single finger on them. They never bothered him again.

When Dick had realized that Roy was going through something similar—they had called him a charity case, a street rat, and even a dollar whore—he made sure to return the favor.

“Time to put your game face on.” Dick told Roy, when he showed up unannounced at Star Academy. He proceeded to publically uninvite children to a highly anticipated event hosted by Bruce Wayne, citing that they didn’t get along with Roy and he wouldn’t want anyone to be uncomfortable in his home. They never bothered him again.

(Everyone who knows anything about Dick knows that the reason for his two week crush on thirteen year old Wally and his ongoing crush on eighteen year old Barbara has nothing to do with them and everything to do with Roy.)

* * *

Dick takes another deep breath and feels some of the tension that has been building in him dissipate when he smells Roy surrounding him.

He slips around Wally and Kaldur keeps his face perfectly neutral when he sees Dick creeping up on him. “Well, you’re the last to find me. I guess you lose.”

Wally whirls around, just a little too fast, one hand clutched over his heart. “Dude! Not cool!”

Dick laughs, tosses his bag into the cart packed full of groceries, linens, the TV on the bottom rack, and hops on his back, “I give you permission to carry me.”

“I don’t want to carry you!”

“What’s that, Wally? You want me to tell the cashier that we don’t want any of your favourite snacks? Well, okay, then.”

By some awful twist of fate, they’re in the same line for the same cashier that he was in earlier. He sees Dick and sneers at him. He’s opening his mouth to say something, and Dick feels his heart stop, when Roy steps in front of him. Roy doesn’t say anything, he never has to say anything, and the man’s mouth shuts with an audible click. The man rings up their purchase and Dick slips his debit card into Roy’s open hand.

The transaction is quick and painless.

This time when Dick walks away from the cashier, he’s able to hold his head up high.


	7. Chapter 7

They arrive in Roy’s apartment and start to put away the things they bought. Dick leaves the others in the kitchen to put the first aid supplies and medicine in the bathroom. When he returns Wally has put some of the food into the fridge, but most of it is lying on the kitchen table, which is shoved in a small corner of the living room nearest the kitchen entrance.

The amount of groceries they bought is stunning. It could feed a small village, but for the most part it’s just going to feed Roy. They’ll cook a good chunk of it now and freeze the rest for later. By the time they’re done, Roy should have enough food to last him a couple of months.

It’s hard for Dick to settle into the kitchen and fool around with the others. All he wants to do is open up his laptop and research what to expect next. He’s six weeks pregnant and he needs to plan out what he’s going to do for the next thirty weeks of his life.

He stays with the others, though. Laughing when it’s appropriate, making a smartass remark when it’s appropriate, and just generally being his normal trollish self. But, it’s hard. And when they finally finish in the kitchen and decide to break for a movie, Dick has to force himself not to sprint for his laptop.

“Dude, what’s with the new laptop, anyways?”

“I have to work on some homework, but I didn’t want to lug my laptop all over the place.”

“So, you bought a new laptop?”

“Yup.”

“Seriously, dude! You are so spoiled!”

“Don’t hate me because I’m filthy rich.”

It doesn’t take long for Dick to find a new bible. It’s called BabyCenter. It’s a website that has a week-by-week breakdown of the average pregnancy. There’s a movie playing on Roy’s new TV and while the others are watching it, Dick is curled up in a beanbag on the floor not too far away. He’d normally be with them, but he can’t risk one of them glancing over to see what he’s looking at.

The site is amazing. There are facts and helpful tips and forums and Dick feels so much better knowing that there is so much easily accessible info. He needs to pick up prenatal vitamins, ones with folic acid, and take them every day. That’s the most concerning part. He can’t have those lying around at home in a container labeled ‘Prenatal Vitamins’ but he can’t leave them somewhere, like school, where he won’t have access to them every day.

Maybe if he… Yeah, that’ll work.

The ending credits for the movie starts up and Dick closes the open window on his laptop.

“Alright, I think I’m going to head home.” Wally says, standing up and stretching.

Kaldur rises, as well. “As shall I, it’s getting quite late.”

The two make their way to the door, but stop just short of it, turning to look at Dick. “You coming?”

Dick is about to agree when a thought occurs to him. Is it safe to zeta? It’s never been a question before whether or not using a zeta tube was safe, but it’s never been used by anyone pregnant before.

“Nah, I’m going to hang around here for a bit.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

Wally gives Dick a long hard stares, Dick meets his eyes and refuses to fidget. Dick has no idea if Wally finds whatever he’s looking for. But, one second they’re having a face off, the next Wally has wrapped both arms around him in a hug.

Wally smells nice. He smells like laughter and friendship and smiles. It’s something Dick enjoys and he hasn’t had many hugs recently, so he allows himself to sink into it. Eventually, they pull apart and Dick grins at him. “Later, Baywatch.”

“Dude!”

“Sorry, I keep forgetting not to use your girlfriend’s pet names for you.”

“Dick!”

Kaldur places himself between them and ushers Wally out the door. “Goodbye, my friends.”

The door closes behind them and Dick is left standing nearby with Roy. Roy doesn’t say anything, just switches the TV back to cable and turns on a random show. Dick goes and sits down beside him. His phone rings and Dick checks the caller ID before answering it.

It’s not Bruce and Dick isn’t sure whether or not that’s relieving.

“Hey, Alfie, what’s up?”

“I am fine. And you, Master Dick?”

“I’m good, I’m still at Roy’s. He said he’s going to drive me back, so I’ll probably get home pretty late.”

“Master Dick, are you aware of the time?”

“Yeah, it’s 23:57.”

“In that case, do you not think it might be best if you simply spent the night with Young Roy and have him drive you home tomorrow, at a more reasonable time, perhaps?”

“Well, Alfie, we can do that if you want to take the logical approach to this.”

“I would very much like to take the logical approach to this.”

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Indeed, Master Dick. I shall inform Master Bruce that you will be returning tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Alfie.”

Dick hangs up the phone and feels just a little lost. He’s bought himself a little time before he has to face Bruce again, but Dick isn’t sure he wants that time. How is he supposed to hide this from Bruce? Should he hide this from him? It’s his kid too. Doesn’t he have a right to know Dick’s pregnant with his child?

He tries to imagine Bruce’s reaction to finding out. It doesn’t end well. No matter how he tries to spin it or dice it or cover it up, he knows Bruce will never be able to cope with the knowledge that Dick is pregnant with his child. Even though Bruce doesn’t remember what happen—he will never remember, Dick made sure of that—he won’t be able to forgive himself. The truth will destroy him. So, Dick has to make sure that he never knows the truth.

No matter the cost, Dick will do everything in his power to make sure that Bruce never knows who the father of his baby is.

Which means that he is on his own.

And that’s a lot to take in. A lot to accept. He has a baby inside of him right now. A baby that is going to be inside of him for thirty-four more weeks, not thirty like he initially thought. A baby that is apparently the size of a lentil, which just makes everything that much harder to comprehend. Dick isn’t sure if the small size of this baby makes him feel better or worse. Because if it’s the size of a lentil at least he doesn’t have to worry about there not being enough space in his body for it to grow, but if it’s only a lentil than it still has so much growing left to do and what if something goes wrong?

He’s on his own, what is he supposed to do if something goes wrong?

This is a lot and Dick isn’t sure how he’s going to manage. He needs to book an appointment with an obstetrician, but he can’t book one in Gotham, even if he creates a false ID, something that would take him about a week to do, the risk of someone recognizing him is still too high.

Dick isn’t panicking and he’s much calmer than he was earlier, but when he feels Roy wrap an arm around him and drag him into his lap, Dick starts crying.

It’s embarrassing because he’s never lost control of himself like this in front of one of his friends--Wally and Kaldur have never even seen him so much as flinch, unless he wanted them to—and that just causes him to cry that much harder.

Roy rests his chin on Dick’s head and speaks calmly. “I won’t tell.”

“I’m pregnant.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. His mouth slams shut and he brings one hand up to cover it. He can’t bring himself to look at Roy, not when all he can think about is that cashier from Walmart.

Roy makes a soft humming and says nothing. He just holds Dick and a Pampers commercial begins.

The silence between them echoes off the wall and Dick can’t stand it, so he begins to speak. “I didn’t know, I thought it was over. I had my period, but apparently it wasn’t my period—implantation bleeding is a common occurrence and because it looks and feels like a period it can be easily mistaken for one—and everyone just kept making jokes about me being pregnant. So, I took the test and it came back positive and now I’m six weeks pregnant and there’s just so much to do and I don’t know how I’m going to get through it all on my own.”

Roy turns off the TV and tilts Dick’s head back to look at him. “Well, then, it’s a good thing you’re not on your own.”

This time when Dick cries, it’s because he’s happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pft. Remember when I decided I'd do daily updates? Yeah, that didn't last long. Lol. Sorry, it's late. I hope you enjoy the new chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha! Daily updates. I was so naive back then. Lol. Sorry this is late.

“So, six weeks pregnant, huh?” Roy asks after a brief moment of silence.

“Uh-huh.”

“It happened on the 22nd, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Dick mumbles.

* * *

On September 22nd Wayne Enterprise was hosting a large event. There were booths, food, games, a concert, and even a small parade. The goal of the event had been to raise money for public schools throughout Gotham. Originally, the event was scheduled for early August, but due to an Arkham breakout, it had been pushed all the way to the end of September.

Bruce Wayne, the mastermind behind everything, had just made his way on stage.  Before he could say more than two words he was interrupted.

“So,” Poison Ivy snarled, “everyone here is capable of standing together and raising money for a ‘good’ cause. And yet, not a single one of you has put a cent down to protect the rainforest from deforestation. That man,” and she pointed at a man standing off to the sidelines, a long thorned vine crept over the side of the stage to wrap around his ankle and dangled him upside down, “has recently started up a contract that will destroy two hundred acres of the rainforest and not a single one of you has made any attempt to stop him.”

The man screamed and struggled while the murmuring in the crowd raised to yelling as people began to shove each other and run from the scene.

“Perhaps, the rainforest will survive if instead of destroying it, you pathetic worms were all focused on destroying each other.”

Bruce Wayne who had been making his way to the screaming man, turned at her words, and seeing her raised a clenched fist, lunged forward. Poison Ivy reacted just enough, so that Bruce missed her and opening her hands, she blew a cloud of powder into his face.

Bruce reeled back, coughing and hacking, and around the crowd, flowers bloomed, twining their way up buildings and people and shaking softly releasing a delicate yellow pollen.

It was at this point that all hell broke loose.

* * *

“So, what are your plans?”

“I need to book a prenatal appointment, but it can’t be in Gotham, someone would recognize me.”

“Can’t Bruce do that for you?”

“What? No!” Dick pulled back from Roy, almost falling out his lap.

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell Bruce!”

“You can’t tell Bruce that you’re pregnant with his child?”

“Wha—What? What makes you think it’s his?”

“Who else would be the father of your kid?”

Dick flounders for a second. He tries to pick out a name or something but his brain is taking too long.

“Exactly.” Roy says, patting Dick on the top of the head.

“He doesn’t know.”

“Obviously.”

“No, Roy, he doesn’t remember that day.”

Roy’s eyes widen, “And you haven’t told him. You realize he’s going to be pissed when he finds out you withheld information from him?”

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s not going to find out.”

“You’re not going to tell Bruce that he’s the father?”

“I’m not going to tell him I’m pregnant.”

Roy blinks, before shaking his head and sighing. “You realize that that is a terrible idea, right?”

“It’ll be fine, it shouldn’t be too hard to hide.”

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Dick cocks his head.

“Do you hear yourself?”

“The baby is as big as a lentil. It’s not exactly hard to hide.”

“How do you hide a baby? What are you going to do when it gets as big as a watermelon?”

“It’s not going to get that big.”

“The point still stands!”

Dick scowls and crosses his arms. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“Such a bad plan.”

“Everything will work out!”

“No. No, it won’t.”

“How are you going to explain why you can’t go on patrol if you’re not going to tell him you’re pregnant?”

“Why would I not be going on patrol?”

Roy raises his hands and they dart towards Dick’s neck. Dick allows himself to fall back and places his hands down on the ground to guide himself into a backwards roll.

“Dick, you can’t go on patrol with a baby inside you!”

Dick freezes. He had forgotten about that. There are things he just can’t do when he’s pregnant. One punch to the abdomen and something could happen to the baby. But, if he doesn’t go on patrol, Bruce will know something’s up, or worse something could happen to him because Dick wasn’t there to watch his back.

“It’ll be fine. It’s only as big as a lentil right now. My uterus is mostly still behind my pubic bone. Nothing will happen to it.”

Roy looks at Dick, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and begins pacing the room. When he stops, he opens them and looks at Dick. “Do me a favour?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Can you please stop having one bad idea after another bad idea?”

“I am not!”

“Yes, yes, you are.” Dick pouts and crosses his arm. Roy groans and rolls his eyes, making his way over to him. Placing his hands on Dick’s shoulder, Roy waited until Dick looks up at him. “I will go along with your terrible plans, and I won’t tell anyone. Just know that when it blows up in your face, I’m going to say ‘I told you so’ and laugh at you.”

“Thanks, Roy, that means so much to me.” Dick says this with as much snark as he can, because both the sarcasm and the words are true.

“Now, go to bed.”

“It’s only midnight!”

“Nighty, night, Dickybird!”

Dick huffs and grabs his laptop before retreating to Roy’s bedroom. He spends the next few hours researching how the zeta tubes work. It’s 3:00 when his cell phone rings.

He doesn’t bother to check caller ID.

“Hey, B.”

“Dick, how was your day?”

“It was an experience.”

“You?”

“About the same. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Talked to Roy, he’s got my back.”

“About what? You know you can always talk to me, right, Dick?”

And like a slap to the face, Dick realizes who he’s on the phone with. It’s Bruce, on the other end, asking if Dick knows he can talk to him. Bruce who is the father of Dick’s unborn child. Dick is out of words, he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it.

“Dick?”

“Yeah, Bruce?” Dick mumbles.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

“And what about everything else?”

The acidic taste of guilt settles in the back of Dick’s mouth, he manages to swallow it, but it burns all the way down to his stomach where it finally settles like an iron ball in his stomach. He should tell Bruce now while he’s asking. Bruce will know what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Bruce will help. It’ll be so much easier if he just comes clean now.

But the words are stuck in his throat. No matter how much Dick wants to tell Bruce, he can’t figure out how. If he tells Bruce he’s pregnant, Bruce will want to know who the father is.

And Dick can’t tell him.

He can’t tell him how he tried to dislocate several of Batman’s fingers while trying to escape him. He can’t tell him how he pleaded and cried and begged for him to stop and come to his senses. He can’t tell him how he had gotten so scared and desperate that he screamed for Superman.

He’s not ready to tell Bruce. He’s barely even ready to think about it.

“I know, Bruce.” he whispers. His eyes burn because he can visualize the hurt look on Bruce’s face when he replies softly, “As long as you know.”

“I’ll tell you soon!” he blurts out. Dick has no idea if he means the words or not, but now that they’re out there he’s going to have to mean them because the last thing he would want to do is break a promise to the man. “I just… I need more time.”

“Dick, take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you.”

There’s a long pause between them, but it’s nostalgic in a way. It reminds Dick of when he was first getting to know Bruce. When he had too much to say and no way of knowing how or when to say it. And just like those past silences, this one is broken when Bruce awkwardly clears his throat and speaks.

“Dick?”

“Yeah, B?”

“Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up from your hangout spot with your friends. I understand you guys have plans tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll be there at 7:00.”

“Alright.”

Another pause, but this one is one is to be expected. Their conversation is over, yet neither of them is willing to hang up the phone. Dick closes his eyes and listens to the soft sound of Bruce’s breathing.

Part of him wishes he was home. If he was, he could have more than just the sounds of his breathing. He could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath Bruce took, he could be smell the reassuring scent of Bruce as they curled up together, he could listen to the calming sound of his heart that would lull him to sleep.

But he’s not home. So Dick makes due with what he has. He focuses on the sound of Bruce breathing, imagines that he’s lying down with him, and eventually he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Roy single-handedly managed to destroy the only plot point I actually knew was going to be in this story. I have no idea what I'm doing now, so I have to edit the tags now because Roy decided to be a good friend. Ugh.
> 
> This would have been up earlier but between sulking over my lost plot points, weeping over that one comment I accidentally deleted, and working on another side project, well it took a while to get it out. I hope you all enjoy it.


	9. Chapter 9

Dick wakes up to the shifting of the mattress when Roy gets out of bed. It startles him into an exhausted sense of awareness. It’s concerning because Dick can’t recall Roy climbing into bed with him and he has always been a light sleeper—light enough Batman had little to do for that aspect of his training. Roy yawns and stretches and Dick tries to force himself to get up, but he’s still so tired.

“Good morning,” he hears. A small smile breaks onto his face and he slips one hand up to keep his phone held against his ears.

The nice thing about being the ward of Bruce Wayne is that he gets all the new Wayne tech early and it is always sophisticated cutting-edge technology. The nice thing about being Batman’s Robin is that all of his high tech gear is fitted with alien technology, which includes a power source that can last for days running at full power.

“Morning, Bruce,” he murmurs.

From where he’s stretching, Roy turns and raises an eyebrow at Dick. “Why is it that even though you spent the night in my bed, it’s Bruce that you talk to first?”

“It’s not like I’m having your baby.”

“What?”

Dick freezes because Bruce can’t make any sort of sense of that statement without any context, but Bruce will probably never forget that he said it. He’ll spend days analyzing it if he feels the need, and Dick really doesn’t want him to feel the need.

Roy is smirking and looking far too pleased with himself.

Dick reaches over and grabs the fluffy pillow lying beside it and whips it into Roy’s face. He’d smirk at the angry snarl Roy lets out, but he’s too busy trying to come up with an explanation.

He feels like an idiot when he realizes that when it comes to Bruce, honesty is the best policy. In this situation. In this situation, when it comes to Bruce, honesty is the best policy.

“Roy’s just mad jelly that I spent the night with him, but it’s you who gets all my attention.”

Bruce hums and Dick doesn’t say anything, waiting to see if Bruce will accept his excuse. He feels guilty again. He’s supposed to be Bruce’s partner. They’re supposed to able to trust each other with their lives and everything else. Yet, here Dick is not telling him everything he should.

He feels dirty.

But, he’s felt dirty for six weeks now.

“You still need to head over to Wally’s house. I know he’s postponed your plans, but you really do need to get over there soon.”

Right. The mission. He was supposed to be at the Cave at 7:00, which was, according to the clock on Roy’s night stand, four and a half hours ago.

“You should have woken me up,” he says, sitting up. “I would have been there already.”

“You were sleeping. It’s not like you have a hard deadline.”

“Does that mean I can go back to sleep?” Dick yawns and stands on the bed, bending down to touch his toes.

“Get up, Dick. I’ll see you later.”

“Fine. See you soon.” Dick hangs up the phone and flips off the bed.

“Showoff.”

“I,” Dick begins, “am not speaking to you.”

“You can’t blame me for what comes out of your mouth.”

“Watch me.”

“You are a spoiled brat.”

“Yes,” Dick laughs, walking to the bathroom, “yes I am.”

It doesn’t take as long to shower at Roy’s place. Mostly because he’s showering alone, partly because Roy has a hot water limit and if Dick uses it all Roy will do something unpleasant to him. His breast still feel fine, even though his nipples are sensitive beyond all reason, and Dick has to go out of his way to avoid touching them.

There’s a bottle of shower gel that’s basically untouched. It’s the same brand that Bruce uses and it’s there because Dick doesn’t want to smell like Roy after he showers. Roy refuses to touch it and whenever Dick suggests he uses it, Roy gives him a disgusted look that makes Dick laugh, which is probably why he keeps suggesting it.

When he gets out of the shower, he uses Roy’s red towel hanging from the towel rack to dry off. He contemplates wrapping it around himself before going out into the hall, but decides against it. Partly because Roy has seen him naked before, mostly because the look on Roy’s face if he sees him will be hilarious.

He’s not afraid to be naked around Roy. He trusts him completely. He’s not afraid and this proves it.

He doesn’t run to Roy’s room across the hall. But, if he goes a little faster than normal, no one is there to call him on it.

Roy isn’t in his room, but the smell of bacon permeating the air is a perfect indicator of where he is. Roy has a shoddy dresser shoved into the corner and when Dick opens up the top drawer, he finds that it no longer belongs to him. Apparently, he’s now sharing it with someone, because he definitely does not own a pair of pink silk crotchless panties.

Roy was one of his closest friends. Which is why Dick is going to make sure he never lives this down.

When he’s dressed for the day, Dick heads over to the kitchen. The table is set and Dick raises an eyebrow at the amount of food. There is a small mountain of bacon, and there is no way the two of them will ever get through it alone. “Is Wally coming over?”

“No.” Roy points at a seat with a plate in front of it and Dick sits as instructed.

He serves himself. There’s a bowl of oatmeal—it’s the instant kind though, which means it’s going to be gross, but satisfying at the same time—that he has to take, and he snatches a couple slices of bacon and a few pieces of fruit. Milk is a lie, so he ignores the jug of it and grabs the carton of orange juice to fill his glass.

That’s all he’s having. Roy is going to have to eat the toast, eggs, sausages, and Eggo waffles himself.

“You need to eat more than that.” Roy says.

“No, I don’t man.” He scoops a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. “You can scarf down the rest on your own.”

“I did not make all of this for myself. Eat up.”

“Uh-uh. There is no way.”

“I made it for you, so you have to eat it.”

“Why on earth would you think I would eat more than this?”

“Because you’re pregnant.”

Dick tenses and stares down at his breakfast. “So, I have to eat myself sick?”

“You have to eat for two.”

It’s not fair. It’s his body and he shouldn’t be forced to eat what he doesn’t want to eat. But, there’s a baby in him, and now his body isn’t just his body. He thinks about that, and really, he’s only six weeks along, it’s not like he needs to eat more right now. It’s not like he can eat more than this. He isn’t hungry enough to eat as much as Roy wants him too. He’s never been that hungry before.

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Dick, take two of the eggs, sausages, and slices of toast each.”

“Are you nuts? I’ll puke.”

“That’ll be unfortunate. You still have to do it.”

“Roy, I can’t. When have I ever eaten that much food?”

“Dick, you either fill your plate now, or I call Bruce and tell him you left my place without eating last night’s dinner or breakfast this morning.”

Dick cringes at the thought. “You’re going to lie to him?”

“Yup.”

It isn’t fair. Bruce will believe Roy no matter how much Dick denies it. Because Dick has a bad habit of refusing to eat when he’s stressed and Bruce knows that he’s been stressed for awhile. Dick refuses to speak to Roy again. He fills up his plate and ignores the small sniffle that escapes him. This is dumb and stupid and Roy is just trying to look out for him, but Dick just wants things to go back to normal. Things can’t go back to normal. Not as long as this—this—parasite is growing inside him. And even when it comes out things still won’t be normal because then he’ll have a stupid baby to go along with all his other stupid problems. It isn’t any bigger than a lentil, but it’s still finding ways to ruin his life.

The worst part of breakfast is when Dick clears his plate and finds himself going for seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here. A reward for all you poor saps who had to go back to school today. Also, a reward for myself for going all the way to school just to buy stupid expensive textbooks so I'm not trapped in a massive line when classes begin for me next week
> 
> It would be longer, but I really just wanted to get it out today. I hope you all enjoy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter.

It’s 12:15 and Dick is still reeling from his body’s betrayal. Roy doesn’t say anything when he clears off the table, the mountain of bacon reduced to a small stack that easily fits into a Ziplock bag before it’s shoved into the fridge. He cleans up after breakfast in silence and Dick isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse.

His laptop is open to the BabyCenter site and he’s committing the dietary recommendations and restrictions to memory. There are things he can’t eat any more. And it’s this, sitting here and memorizing the changes his diet has to undergo that helps drive the point home.

His body doesn’t belong to him anymore.

It’s his, but it’s also not just his because there’s a baby inside him. And everything Dick does will directly affect it now. He can’t eat the way he wants to, he has to eat the way the baby needs him to. His body that is already doing weird things—Dick would seriously appreciate if the occasional spontaneous erections would just stop—is going to get even worse. Nausea, increased appetite, breast and nipple changes are all things he’s supposed to expect. By the end of his pregnancy, he needs to have put on twenty-five to thirty-five pounds.

The fact that it’s his body is inconsequential. The babies needs are more important than his desires.

Because Alfred won’t know to feed him differently, Dick is going to have to figure out a way to get himself the nutrients he needs. And a way to hide it. Twenty-five pounds is something Bruce will notice. He can’t be stuffing his face whenever he wants, there’s only so much that people will accept puberty as an excuse. He can start buying lunch from the cafeteria in addition to the lunch Alfred packs him, and if he spends more time at the cave, it won’t be hard to sneak in another few meals.

How he’ll stop Bruce from noticing him gain twenty-five pounds is a bridge that’s best ignored until he gets to it.

“So, when exactly are you leaving?” Roy sits down on the couch beside him.

“Now, I have to go meet up with the others.”

Roy stares at him for a minute. “Please tell me you’re not going on a mission.”

“Okay.” Dick closes his laptop and stands up, arms stretched to the ceiling. “I’m going to leave this here.”

Dick is putting his shoes on when Roy lets out a loud groan. He walks over to Dick, places one under his chin, and tilts his head up so their eyes lock. “This is a terrible idea.”

“I can’t just not go.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Bruce would kill me if I bailed without a good reason!”

“I think being pregnant with his kid is an excellent reason.”

“You don’t understand, Roy.”

“Actually, I understand just fine. I think you’re the one who’s misunderstanding.” Roy grumbles, shoving his feet into his sneakers.

“I am not misunderstanding. I’m overstanding!” Dick throws his hands up in the air and unlocks the front door.

“No, you’re—what? Is that a word? That is not a word!”

“It is too! If understanding means you get it, and misunderstanding means you don’t get it, then overstanding means you get it so well, you’re basically three steps ahead.”

“So, what you’re saying,” Roy smirks, “is that you made it up.”

“That’s not the point!” Dick laughs and Roy flicks him in the forehead.

And for the moment, everything is okay.

* * *

They don’t head straight to Mount Justice. Roy raises an eyebrow as he watches Dick empty a bottle of gummy prenatal vitamins into a large Ziplock bag five feet from the Walmart entrance. “Did you buy a pack of Ziplocks just for this?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“I can’t have a bottle labeled ‘Prenatal Vitamins’ lying around the house.”

“Yes, you can.” When Dick glares at him, Roy raises his hands in surrender and continues, “Just listen for a sec. If you leave the bottle lying around, someone—probably Alfred—will find it. And then, you won’t have to tell Bruce. He’ll just figure it out.”

Dick walks over to the garbage receptacle off to the side and tosses the empty bottle into it, balancing the box of Ziplock bags precariously on the rim. “Well, I’m off.”

Roy sighs, “Have I mentioned what a terrible plan this is?”

“Several times, actually.”

“And that doesn’t tell you anything?”

“Goodbye, Roy.”

“You’re so stubborn.” Roy mutters as he falls into step beside Dick. The nearest zeta tube is four blocks from their location. Had Roy not been grumbling under his breath, they would have made the walk in complete silence.

When they arrive at the zeta, Dick hesitates. He’s done the research, or at least done as much as he could before Bruce called him. All signs indicate that it’s perfectly safe to use while pregnant, but Dick would feel a lot more comfortable if someone outright told him it was fine.

The problem is that the ones who have a definitive answer for him are the same ones who would figure out why he was asking. Not exactly a risk he was willing to take.

It will be fine. He’s been using the zeta for the past six weeks anyways.

“Dick?” Roy is giving him a look.

“Yeah?”

“What are you—Why are you—“ His mouth clicks shuts, as he looks back and forth between the zeta tube and Dick. “Oh shit! Is this safe? Can you do this?”

Dick feels his jaw clench shut. “Yes, Roy, I can do this. I’m not incapable.”

“Yeah,” Roy snaps back, “but, should you?”

Dick flinches. He tries not to think about it and activates the zeta tube.

“Dick!”

It’ll be fine. This is completely safe.

* * *

Roy stares at Dick when they arrive at Mount Justice. Dick ignores him and keeps his eyes forward. Roy thinks he's being reckless, but Dick has done the research necessary to understand exactly how the zeta tube works. He knows that everything is fine and the baby is safe, even if the reality of how zetas work makes him cringe.

"Dick?" Roy sounds shocked, like he's just realized he might be talking to an imposter.

"Don't call me names." he says, and he feels his eyes burn. He hasn't done anything wrong. It's fine.

"Robin." Roy reaches out to grab his shoulders and Dick dodges his hand with ease.

"Stop staring at me."

Roy lunges at him, "Get your ass over here."

"No."

It becomes a chase throughout the Cave. Roy wants Dick to talk about what he just did. And Dick would rather not think about it too much.

He hasn't done anything wrong. He doesn't have to explain himself to anyone.

"Robin!"

"Leave me alone!"

Black Canary stares in shock as Robin jumps off a wall and flips over her head, Roy's hands grasping empty air as Robin escapes. They make their way across the base to the confusion of the others and don’t stop until they make it to Robin’s room.

He came here more out of instinct than any strategic reason. This is the second time he’s trapped himself while running from someone.

Roy closes the door and blocks the entrance. “Robin, what the actual fuck?”

Robin doesn’t say anything. He can’t bring himself to think about it too much.

“Was that even safe?”

“Yes.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I researched it last night. The zeta tubes are safe to use.”

Roy lets out a long groan, removing his sunglasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “If it’s so safe, why did you run?”

Robin walks over to his closet and pulls out his uniform. He dresses in silence and Roy sighs.

“If everything’s fine, why are you acting so guilty?”

“I can’t just stop using the zeta.”

“Yes, actually, you can.”

Dick glares at him and tightens his utility belt around his waist.

“Isn’t there like a limit on the amount of bad decisions you’re allowed to make in a twenty-four hour period of time?”

He goes through the long arduous process of putting his domino mask on. It would be easier if they used spirit gum, but spirit gum remover isn’t exactly a hard item to get a hold of.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” Roy states, “but, I got your back anyways.”

Roy turns and strides out of the room.

When he enters the mission briefing room, he’s not surprised to see everyone staring at him. Batman is concerned. It doesn’t show on his face or in his stance, but there’s something about the air around him that let’s Robin sense how he feels.

“It’s a long story,” he cackles and nudges his way to stand between Aqualad and Kid Flash. The others are too confused to ask questions, and Batman begins the briefing.

Batman is nearing the end of the speech when Red Arrow stalks into the room. He walks over and stands directly behind Robin and he can feel the glare on the back of his head.

Batman doesn’t falter in his speech, he continues as if Red Arrow has been there the whole time, dragging attention away from his arrival and back onto the mission.

“Are you coming with us?” Kid Flash asks the second Batman stops speaking.

“Yep.” Red Arrow is still glaring at him and when Robin turns around he grins to hide his confusion.

“Sweet!”

“If I may ask, what made you change your mind?” Aqualad asks, as they head to the hangar.

“I’m being emotionally blackmailed.”

Everyone turns to look at Robin. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.” He’s being honest, but the others are never going to believe him, so he throws his head back and cackles.

“Great.” Artemis scowls. “He’s coming.” She stalks off ahead, Miss Martian and Superboy following her silently.

There’s a moment of silence as the four left behind stare at each other.

“It’ll take a bit of effort, but I’m sure we can ease you into the team dynamics.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m going to stick to Robin the whole time.”

Aqualad pauses for a moment, taking a few extra seconds to weigh his words, his eyes flicker from Red Arrow to Robin. “Very well. For all future missions, I will ensure the two of you work together.”

“Wait, what?” Robin blurts out.

Aqualad nods his head and Kid Flash seems to jump onto whatever train of thought they’re on because he nods his head in agreement. “That’s cool with me.”

“What are you talking about?” he snaps.

Kid Flash grins and throws an arm around his shoulder. “Just because you won’t tell us what’s up, doesn’t mean we won’t assign you a babysitter until you’re feeling better.” He laughs and runs for the Bioship immediately after he finishes speaking, which is the only reason he avoids the nerve strike Robin had been preparing.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“But, you will have one until your internal conflict is resolved.” Aqualad says firmly.

“You can’t do this!”

“Well, we just did.” Red Arrow swats him over the head and shoves him in the direction of the hangar.

Robin is pretty sure he has the worst friends ever.

* * *

They return to the Cave six hours later, the mission successfully completed. Not a single goon managed to get within striking distance of Robin. Red Arrow made sure of that. The few times Robin had honestly thought he would get to let out some of his frustration, Aqualad or Kid Flash would drop whatever they were doing in order to cover him.

They are the absolute worst friends to have ever friended.

He wants to find somewhere to sulk in peace, but Red Arrow made it very clear that he was going to be hanging around, so he can’t just leave and head back to the manor.

Because Connor is not coping with him being around very well.

He’s angry, aggressive, and defensive, and while that may seem like normal everyday behavior for Connor, the implication of Roy being here more often is making it worse.

It’s normal and to be expected, though. Connor’s time in Cadmus did not prepare him for many things, and as a result, some things—like the constant presence of a foreign alpha—tended to exasperate his omega tendencies. The caginess and his lashing out isn’t going to improve unless he gets used to Roy.

None of the others can help Connor with this because none of them understand what it’s like to be an omega interacting with an unfamiliar alpha. Of all the members of the Justice League, Robin is the only one who can help him.

It’s kinda nice at times, having Connor around and helping him deal with all the trials and tribulations of being an omega. Having someone around who gets what Robin goes through and can relate to it is pretty sweet. Before Superboy, Robin had been the only omega in the League, and the only other people who could relate to his struggles were Catwoman, Poison Ivy, and Riddler (and it says so much about Gotham that all of the omega supers came from there), but they weren’t exactly people he would go to for advice.

But, Connor, was different. Robin had to teach him how to nest (and regularly steal clothes from Superman and Lex Luthor for him to use in a nest), talk him through his instinctual responses, prepare him for his heats, and teach all about the joys of menstruation. It was like having a little brother—not a child, like Wally loved to insist—and Robin appreciated it.

Except for right now when he would like to leave, but couldn’t because Connor looked like he might just punch Roy through a wall. He grabs Roy by the wrist and pulls him over to Connor, yanks on Connors shirt and drags them both over to the couch. He sits in Roy’s lap and when he gets Connor to sit beside them, he pushes the boy’s head into his lap, so he can run his fingers through his hair.

“Movie, anyone?” Wally asks, zipping over to the couch.

“No, thanks, Baywatch.” Artemis grumbles, glaring at Roy.

“A movie,” Kaldur says, pulling Artemis over to them, “sounds like a wonderful opportunity for us all to get better acquainted.”

Artemis scowls, but sits obediently on the couch beside Wally.

“Oh, I have just the movie!” M’gann chirps, flying off excitedly.

The silence as they wait for her to return is awkward. Connor tenses up  and Robin runs his hands down to his neck to rub at stress knots he would need either vibrations or something stronger than his fingers to work out.

“It’s called Juno!” M’gann says, floating back into the room holding a DVD case. “My friends at school said that I just had to watch it!”

“Is this a chick flick? Because I’m not in the mood for a chick flick.” Wally objects.

Robin wants to go home and sulk, not sit here and debate a movie to watch. “Everyone who wants to watch Juno, raise your hand.”

M’gann’s hand whips through the air, and Artemis looks at Wally, smirks and raises her hand.

“You don’t want to watch it! You just want to watch me not want to watch it, as I watch it!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Honestly, Kid Ego, you think way too highly of yourself.”

“Those of you who don’t want to watch it, hands up.” Robin cuts in.

Wally waves his hands around in the air as if he’ll count as more than one vote if he does it fast enough. After a second, he looks around, and realizes he’s the only one with his hand in the air. “Seriously!”

“And for those of us who don’t care.” Wally lets out a groan, as the rest of them raise their hands. “Juno, it is. Pop it in, Miss M.”

“What’s this movie about, anyways?”

“A girl gets pregnant and she decides to give up her baby for adoption.”

No. Just no.

Robin glances up at Roy who looks about as shocked as he feels, before a slow smirk slides onto his face and he looks back down at him.

It’s too late to bail without everyone being suspicious and he knows Roy won’t let him out of here anyways.

* * *

“Seriously, RA. I don’t need you to follow me around.” Robin grumbled four hours ago, hacking into the security system of a building.

“When you learn to face reality, I’ll stop.”

“Excuse me? I am so facing reality.”

“No, you’re not. You’re making terrible life decisions.”

“I’m sorry, kettle, when exactly are you going to speak to Green Arrow again?”

Red Arrow was silent for a moment. “Less talking, more hacking, Robin.”

“That’s what I thought.”

* * *

‘Reality’ Roy mouths at him, and Robin contemplates punching him in the face.

“Um? Movie?” Wally says, eyes flicking between Roy and Robin. Naturally, Wally’s no-so-subtle draws Kaldur’s attention to the silent battle of wills between the two.

“Cue it up.” Robin orders M’gann, who, judging by the confused expression on her face, has accidentally noticed that something is not quite right with her telepathy.

“What? Oh! Hello, Megan! Can’t watch a movie unless you play it first.” she chatters, fumbling with the remote. The movie starts and everyone settles in, Robin tries to ignore the way Wally keeps glancing at him every couple of minutes.

Connor is finally starting to relax, the harsh lines in his face smoothing away, when things go to hell. Juno is walking away from the abortion clinic and Robin is reeling from the concept. It never occurred to him to simply “nip the problem in the bud”. It’s something to think about. He could head over to Star City, or Bludhaven, or anywhere that isn’t Gotham and have an abortion. Problem solved. No baby to worry about or ruin his life.

Things can finally go back to normal.

His heat will be super late, but he’s a teenager and puberty means his body will do whatever it feels like until it’s over. He could totally get away with it and Batman will never know.

He did research on pregnancy yesterday and it’s not such an easy choice anymore. It would be easy, if he had just found out, if he was just thinking of the baby as a clump of cells or tumor that needs to be removed. But, now? He knows that it has a heart that’s beating, that its brain, and eyes, and nostrils are starting to form.

It’s not an abstract concept anymore.

One of the medical definitions of deaths includes the stopping of the heart. If he aborts this baby, its heart will stop, and by this definition it will be dead. Is that murder? Another definition is the stopping of brain functions. The baby’s brain hasn’t even formed; an abortion at this point won’t be death because there’s nothing to stop. Does that make it okay?

Robin isn’t sure. Would he be breaking the one ironclad rule Batman has by aborting this baby? If he’s not, can he live with himself if he does?

“What the fuck?” Artemis snaps. “What is she doing? She should just get rid of it.”

“What? Why? She should keep it!” M’gann cries.

Robin does not need a debate on the pros and cons of abortion right now. He would like to leave, but the subtle way Roy tightens his grasp around his waist makes it clear he’s not getting out of this.

Artemis goes through all the reasons teenagers should get an abortion. They’re all good practical and logical reasons Robin can agree with. M’gann counters with all the reasons why people should keep their babies. They’re all good emotional and emphatic reasons Dick can understand. It doesn’t really help him make a decision. These are all things he can think about on his own time. Some of Artemis’ concerns are negligible in the face of the ward of a multi-billionaire, but some of them hit home.

He’s not ready to be a parent. He’s really really not. He doesn’t want a kid. And he doesn’t want a kid that he got because of—

“Yeah, but it’s a part of both of them!” M’gann insists. “Killing it would mean killing a piece of both of them!”

“It is not alive. It’s a clump of cells growing inside of her. Stop projecting life onto it!”

It’s a part of them. It’s a part of Bruce. Dick’s hands drift down to his stomach and he looks at it. There’s a part of Bruce growing inside of him. But this piece of Bruce is his, only his, nothing and no one can take it away from him.

It belongs to him.

Dick knows that whatever it is that Bruce feels for him, he hates it. There’s a small part of Dick that’s still afraid of Batman, a part of him that Dick would like to rip out of his soul, shred to pieces, burn, and crush under his heel. And he knows, that is what Bruce would like to do with his attraction to him. He’s not sure if it would be worse if his feelings were never reciprocated, he just knows that it hurts in a way that he can’t explain to know that Bruce will never willingly touch him.

Bruce has his morals and rules and a strict code of honour. As far as he’s concerned, Dick will never be someone he even thinks about contemplating as a mate. And, Dick doesn’t want to be in a relationship where the other person feels nothing but guilt. It’s why he tries to control himself. He can’t stop himself from being drawn to Bruce, following him wherever he goes, trying to impress him with everything he does, making himself the most memorable thing Bruce sees when he walks into a room; but, he can contain himself, set limits on what is appropriate and too far.

No getting aroused; no touching Bruce in ways that make him uncomfortable or break the illusion that their feelings are platonic no peeking at Bruce’s genitalia, it’s best to not even think about it until he’s alone in his room; any time he takes something that smells like Bruce to masturbate, he has to wash it before he returns it.

He made those rules and he’s normally pretty good at sticking to them—except when he’s not and breaks all of them and Bruce won’t even look at him for days—but if he has this baby, maybe that’ll be enough.

Enough for him to finally let go and accept that Bruce will never want to want him, and that’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. I hate this chapter. Seriously, this should have been up last week, but I kept getting stuck. It got to the point where I wrote over five thousand words on another fic that will be posted soon. Ugh. I've given up on it. This chapter is done and over. And, it sucks. But, whatever. Enjoy.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I am sooooo sorry about the really late update... This chapter was being a stupid bitch.

Dick isn’t certain what he’s going to do.

He has an idea of what he should do, but every time he thinks he has a handle on his decision it feels like something else comes up, and he ends up flailing around desperately trying to grasp a solution that turns into wisps of smoke when his fingers clench around it.

What’s worse is that the idea of an abortion clings to edges of his thoughts and he can’t shake it off no matter how hard he tries. It makes him feel guilty. He feels guilty because this is his fault, he should have been stronger or faster or anything to just stop Batman, but he wasn’t and now he’s pregnant and there’s no one to blame but himself. And he doesn’t think he should be punishing this baby for a mess he got himself into.

Roy squeezes Dick’s free hand and Dick squeezes back. He leans back and awkwardly turns so he can bury his face in Roy’s chest.

He takes slow deep breaths and focuses only on Roy. When he’s calm he pulls back and pretends not to see Wally’s confused face or Kaldur’s cool assessing gaze. With one final slow breath, he slips back into the persona of Robin, leaving all of Dick Grayson’s issues tightly bottled up for later.

When the movie ends, Robin leaves for the manor with barely a word to the others. Connor is fine now, or at least, Connor isn’t going to try to punch Roy through a wall anytime soon. Robin needs to be home now. He needs to sleep the past two days off like a bad hangover.

* * *

Batman is in the cave when he returns and Robin thinks about going to him. He thinks about how he used to be able to walk up to him, curl up in his arms, and feel safe. Now, every time he catches a good whiff of Batman’s scent, a small part of him shudders and he has to bite back a whimper of fear.

Robin is ineffective as Batman’s partner, as long as he’s afraid of the man. And more importantly, he needs things to go back to normal. He needs to go back to feeling safe and confident and like everything is okay.

He walks over to the man and stands close enough to lean against him. Batman continues to type at the computer and Robin stands there leaning against him. He wishes he had never seen Juno. Before that the idea had never been in his head.

 _“How do you hide a baby?”_ Roy had asked.

He climbs into Batman’s lap, something he hasn’t done in six weeks, and presses his face into the mating gland. The scent modulator is already over it, changing the scent just enough to be noticeably different from Bruce’s. It never used to bother him.

But, now, there is just a spark of fear every time he is close to Batman now. He forces himself to stay there. To seek comfort in Batman’s scent, even though he’d much rather go up to Bruce’s room and roll around in his bed. He can’t be afraid forever. He doesn’t want to be afraid at all. Not of Batman.

So, he clings to Batman and forces back tears and the small whine of fear building up in his throat, makes himself go through the calming breathing exercises and focuses on Batman’s scent.

Things will go back to normal. Robin will force them to go back to how they were. And when he wakes up the next morning tucked safely into Bruce’s bed, he feels relieved.

It’s nice to know that he can still fall asleep in Batman’s arms.

* * *

Later that day, Dick is sitting in the school library at lunch, hiding from all of his peers who want to talk to him about things Dick just can’t feign interest in right now. He’s looking through advice forums for new parents when he stumbles across a forum of an eighteen year old beta contemplating an abortion.

He feels guilty when he clicks on the link.

This girl has a lot of reasons for wanting an abortion and Dick is mostly surprised by the number of people who agree that she should have one. What stands out the most to Dick, though, is how sincerely this anonymous beta thanks a group of strangers she has never met.

With shaking fingers, Dick closes the internet browser, puts his laptop away, pulls out his homework from his morning classes.

(Secretly, he spends several minutes during his lunch break for the rest of the week, checking the forum for updates. It’s almost too easy to pretend that he’s doing it because he’s curious about the situation and not because he wants—)

* * *

It’s Saturday, November 12th and Dick is seven weeks pregnant. His first prenatal examine is scheduled in Star City for today and Roy’s going to go with him.

Dick can’t stop dreading the appointment.

Bruce sits across the table from him sipping a cup of coffee and flipping through this morning’s newspaper. Nothing at the table looks appetizing. Not the pancakes or the cereal or the bacon or eggs or fruits or anything else. Dick gently stirs his eggs around, every once in a while bring half a forkful of them to his mouth to nibble on.

“Dick?”

He looks up to see Bruce watching him. “Yeah?”

“I’ve emptied my schedule for the weekend. Would you like to spend something together?”

He almost drops his fork and chooses to place it down while he scrambles for words.

“Like what?”

“Anything you want. We haven’t been spending much time together recently.”

Dick tries to hold back his instinctual flinch at those words because even though Bruce has no idea what’s changed between them, Dick knows exactly why they haven’t been spending time together.

“What about all the stuff you have to do?” Because it’s unlike Bruce to not patrol Gotham unless there was something wrong on a global level.

“It’ll be fine for the weekend. If there’s an emergency, we can be back here in a couple of hours.”

Dick has to wonder how long Bruce has been planning this that he’s confident enough that it will be quiet in Gotham while they’re gone.

“Bruce.”

Bruce gives him one of his small smiles. “What do you say, chum?”

Seven weeks ago, Dick would have done anything for this offer. Part of him wants to refuse, but most of him is relieved to have an excuse not to go to his appointment.

“Asterous.”

* * *

_Dick: I can’t make it today. Bruce wants to hangout._

_Roy: So, you’re just going to bail?_

_Dick: Yup. Reschedule for me?_

_Roy: Why exactly are you not coming for the thing you begged me to set up for you? And don’t say because Bruce wants to hangout. Because that is awful stupid shitty reason._

_Dick: We’re going to be out of town for the weekend. Just the two of us. Like we used to._

_Roy: And?_

_Dick: That’s it._

_Roy: Oh my god. You’re using this as an excuse to avoid the issue. Aren’t you?_

_Dick: No!_

_Roy: Holy funk, Dick. If you can’t deal with it alone just tell someone already._

_Dick: Funk?_

_Roy: Stfu. You know it was autocorrect, so don’t try to avoid the statement._

_Dick: I haven’t had quality time with Bruce in forever. I’m not giving this up for anything._

_Roy: Fine. I’ll reschedule._

_Dick: Thanks._

_Roy: #terriblelifedecisions_

* * *

Dick sleeps on the plane Monday morning and heads straight for school from the airport. It was a good weekend, something he couldn’t regret. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed just being with Bruce until they were returning from the trip.

He’s in the library again for lunch, staring at forums for pregnant teenagers. His fingers twitch and he thinks about it. He could make an anonymous profile and get advice and Roy would stop nagging him to tell someone.

He shuts his laptop and puts it in his bag, resting his head on the table.

Four days ago, he single handedly defused a bomb and stopped a bank robbery, rescuing twenty hostages in the process, while Batman was off dealing with a joint scheme between Riddler and Penguin. He can do this on his own.

No one needs to know.

* * *

On Sunday, November 20th, Dick is eight weeks pregnant and his first prenatal examination is scheduled. Roy is sending him threatening texts messages about what he’ll do if Dick flakes on him again.

Dick is ready for the day. Dressed, and showered, and dragging out the process far more than he should. He’s going to do this, he’s going to take the first step to becoming a parent.

But, first cereal. Because Dick is willing to do almost anything for a bowl of Frosted Flakes right now.

Bruce is already at the table, reading a newspaper, when he arrives, and Dick walks over for a hug, as if he hadn’t taken a shower with him ten minutes ago. “Did you tell Alfred?”

“You can tell him yourself.”

“He’ll take it better from you.”

“No, I assure you, Dick, Alfred will accept it better if he hears it from you.”

“What? No way, Bruce. You’re his favourite person in the whole world.”

Bruce chuckles and turns to look at Dick. “And what makes you say that?”

“Well, why else would he put up with you?” Dick laughs, ducking as Bruce takes a swipe at his head. “Too slow, old man!”

Bruce raises an eyebrow and puts the paper down. “You get a two second head start.”

Dick cackles and turns to run, only to be grabbed from behind. “That was not two seconds!” He manages to get out before Bruce starts tickling him.

“Never trust your opponent.” Bruce keeps going until Dick manages to knock Bruce out of his chair. He doesn’t manage to escape, though, because Bruce tightens his grip and takes him to the ground with him.

Dick tries to escape even though he knows it’s futile, he struggles until Bruce pins him down against the floor. Both of his hands are held together in Bruce’s right hand, while the man straddles him with ease. “Do you give up?” Bruce raises his left hand and waggles his fingers threateningly.

“Never!”

This is nice and perfect and a sign that everything is going back to normal. Bruce is chuckling softly, and Dick laughs along with him. Bruce has been abnormally touchy feely, recently, and Dick wonders if he’s been trying to make up for the six weeks were there was minimal contact between them.

It doesn’t matter, though, because Dick is going to milk this for however long this lasts. This closeness feels like everything he will ever need.

Their eyes meet and everything stops.

Bruce’s nostrils flare and Dick watches as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, his pupils have dilated and for a second, Dick feels his heart stop.

“Bruce?”

Bruce’s grip tightens on his wrists above Dick’s head. Bruce takes another deep breath.

“Bruce?” He’s whining now, but he has no idea why. He’s not sure what’s going on. Why his heart is beating so fast, or why a deep red blush is slowly creeping its way up his neck and to his cheeks. He doesn’t know if he’s aroused or scared, or if he wants this to stop or continue.

All he feels is a deep need that he can neither explain nor comprehend.

Dick starts making a soft keening noise. It originates from his throat and slowly fills the room. Dick would normally be ashamed to be making such an embarrassing sound, but he can barely think beyond the need to make Bruce respond to him in some way.

“Dick.” Bruce’s voice is rough and deep and it sounds like nothing Dick has ever heard from him. It’s not gritty enough to belong to Batman, or light enough to belong Brucie, but it’s still not Bruce’s voice. There’s something about it, something dark and intangible that separates that voice from the Bruce he knows and this man who is straddling him.

He tries to respond with words, but he’s unable to make words form and instead a strange cross between a whimper and a whining noise leaves his lips.

Bruce’s left hand leaves his side he’d been tickling and trails over to his face. He gently drags his fingers across his right cheek, before cupping it. When Bruce leans down, their cheeks brush, Bruce’s stubble leaving sparks of electricity as it drags down his cheeks, his lips brush against Dick’s left ear and he whispers, “You smell so good right now.”

Dick tilts his head back and to the side. He offers up his mating gland to Bruce, and he feels the man rub his fingers over it, gently pressing and massaging the area in a way that leaves Dick with no confusion over how he feels.

Bruce presses his lips against the gland a small moan leave’s Dick’s lips. It’s that sound that snaps Bruce out of whatever mood he’s in. He whips back, as if he’s just recovered from mind control. He stands up, but the movement causes him to notice the bulge in his pants.

“Dick.” Bruce reaches down to help him up, and Dick tries not to cry. Bruce isn’t looking at him, and the second Dick is back on his feet he steps away from him. “I’ll tell Alfred you want cereal for breakfast.”

Dick nods his head, he would give a verbal response, but he knows his voice will give him away. Bruce leaves the room, doesn’t even turn to glance back at him, and Dick knows that things are not going to go back to normal. They’re going to get worse and worse because Bruce is going to start avoiding him now. He’s not going to want Dick sneaking into his bed and he’s not going to want Dick slipping into his shower. For the next little while, Bruce is going to want Dick to stay as far away from him as possible.

He tries to convince himself that it’s because of the age difference. That Bruce would never even think of touching him while he’s his ward. But the reasoning falls flat, even if it’s true; he has a hard time believing that the issue is Bruce’s morality, when he feels so unlovable. He can’t stop thinking that if he had just kept it all inside, kept quiet, Bruce would still be with him, arms wrapped around him and they could cuddle for a while.

Definitely not where that was heading for a few minutes ago, but right now, Dick really needs to be held. And to cry. But, if he cries and Bruce finds out that‘ll just make things worse. He doesn’t need Bruce to feel guilty for upsetting him on top of everything else.

He sits down at the table, in the same seat Bruce sat at earlier and focuses on calming himself. His stomach is rolling around uncomfortably, and Dick tries to ignore it. He feels dirty and as much as he tries to convince himself that there’s nothing wrong with him, he doesn’t believe it. He wonders if what happened eight weeks ago has ruined him in some noticeable way and that’s why Bruce can’t stand to touch him. It’s a stupid thought, and Dick knows this, but that doesn’t change the way he feels.

He manages to hold it together, and Alfred enters the dining room with just a bowl of cereal. Bruce does not enter after him, but Dick is strong enough that he doesn’t collapse in a fit of tears.

Alfred places the bowl down in front of him, and rests one hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Master Dick, is everything alright?”

He nods his head, still not trusting himself to speak, and picks up a spoon, gently stirring the cereal around.

It’s the milk that does it. One second he’s fine, the next he catches a whiff of milk and forces himself away from the table, and pukes. It’s gross and awful and unexpected, and when he’s done, Alfred stops rubbing his back and hands him a handkerchief.

It’s at this point that Dick starts crying.

* * *

Alfred sent him to his room for the day, but it’s not very surprising that he ended up in Bruce’s room. He presses his face into Bruce’s pillow and allows himself to feel comfort in the man’s scent.

The nausea has passed and Dick feels ready and capable to go about his day. Except he can’t because Alfred is convinced that Dick has a stomach bug of some sort and Dick isn’t willing to tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s not entirely inaccurate.

He feels better here in Bruce’s bed with his scent surrounding him. After a brief moment of indulgence, he rolls onto his back. His body has been overly sensitive lately. The pain that originated in his nipples has spread into his breasts, leaving the unbearably sore and Dick unsure if wearing a good bra makes the problem better or worse.

The sensitivity has moved down to his genitals and wearing a cup is an absolute nightmare that requires Dick to change in a different room from Bruce. The slightest of brushes feels good and Dick doesn’t enjoy it, not in the way he used to. It makes him feel uncomfortable and unclean and usually wanting to take a shower.

But, every once in a while, there’s a moment like now. Where everything feels okay and Dick feels comfortable enough with his own body to gently palm his erection. He can smell Bruce all around him and that makes this both better and worse. He doesn’t have much of an end goal for now, just trying to relax and maybe rid himself of some of his earlier stress.

A soft moan slips out from between his lips and he freezes. It comes back in a rush, Bruce’s reaction and his distance, and how things are currently ruined between them. He can’t be doing this, or at least he shouldn’t be doing this in Bruce’s room, in his bed, where the scent will linger and Bruce will be able to smell it the second he lays on his sheets.

He knows this and if he could just stop fucking up for five seconds, he wouldn’t be doing this here or now or ever really. He gets off the bed and throws Bruce’s window open before heading to his own room.

It’s as he’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling that he remembers that he had plans with Roy today. It’s not exactly relief he feels when he picks up his phone to cancel, but something close enough to it that piles on an extra helping of guilt for Dick to carry.

_Dick: I can’t come today._

_Roy: wtfn?!_

_Dick: I threw up at breakfast and Alfred’s banished me to my room._

_Roy: Did you tell him why you puked?_

_Dick: Yeah, I must have caught a stomach bug._

_Roy: Omfg. You are a fucking mess._

_Dick: Don’t you mean funking mess?_

_Roy: They will never find your body._

_Dick: Doubt it. Bruce is pretty good at finding things._

_Roy: Like babies?_

_Dick: No._

_Roy: What are we doing you irresponsible bag of bad decisions?_

_Dick: Reschedule._

_Roy: OMFG! Stop avoiding the issue! If you can’t deal alone tell a responsible adult who knows what they’re doing!_

_Dick: Are you not an adult?_

_Roy: Not a responsible one who knows what they’re doing._

_Dick: Please?_

_Roy: Fine._

_Dick: Thanks._

_Roy: #terriblelifedecisions_

Dick put his phone down and stared at the ceiling.

Tell a responsible adult who knows what they’re doing…

He sits up and picks his phone back up. He turns off his Wi-Fi and uses his data to go back to the new parents’ forum. It doesn’t take long for him to create a profile, but he finds himself hesitating before actually creating a forum.

He remembers Artemis and M’gann’s debate, the eighteen year old beta’s posts, and Roy’s own insistence that he tells someone. He can’t tell anyone he knows in real life, the information will definitely make its way back to Bruce.

_Confused fourteen year old looking for advice_

                _FlashBoy posted:_

_On September 22 nd, 2016, my guardian and I were at the Wayne Enterprise event during the Poison Ivy incident. Like many other alphas he doesn’t remember that day. He doesn’t remember what he did to me, and honestly, I don’t want him to. I was so relieved when he didn’t remember, I figured that as long as he couldn’t remember I could forget about the whole thing and move on with my life. I can’t tell him about it, he’d never be able to live with himself. It would ruin him. Two weeks ago, I found out I was pregnant as a result of the pandemonium, and I told my friend who insists that I tell my guardian, but I obviously can’t tell him because he’ll want to know who the father is.  I can’t tell anyone I know because the news will get back to him. If anyone has any advice, I’d really like to hear it. I just don’t know how to fix this._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this note will have to be "brief" because I have a lecture to get to in about... five minutes? Shit.
> 
> Anyways, I kept changing my mind about which direction this fic was going to go and how to do it blah, blah, blah. And this was the one I decided to go in... obviously. Please feel free to leave an advice post for Dick in the comment section. I'm planning to get two maybe three advice posts from people who are not me to both see other directions I can take and to represent opinions that are not mind.
> 
> If you do post something and I decide to use it, I'll be using your username as the poster unless you specifically ask for something else. I hope that's everything, if not, I might just make a change to this note at a later time.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, everyone!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, sorry. It contain's exactly 1/5 of the content I wanted. In the end, I just decided to post what I have completed instead of waiting to get everything in there. I hope you enjoy.

On Monday, November 21st, Dick feels exhausted. Bruce didn’t return to the manor last night. Dick had known he wouldn’t, but he’d still hoped…  

Between his concern for Bruce, his guilt for avoiding his prenatal examine, and just generally feeling awful Dick hadn’t gotten much sleep that night. He’s sitting in the backseat of the car as Alfred drives him home from school when he gets a text from Roy.  

 _Roy: You fucking didn’t._   

 _Dick: I funking didn’t what?_   

 _Roy: Let it go already!!!!!!!!!!_   

 _Dick: Lmfao. So, what’s got your panties in a twist?_   

_Roy: FlashBoy posted: On September 22_ _n d, 2016, my guardian and I were at the Wayne Enterprise event during the Poison Ivy incident. Do I even need to say anything else? Why would you even? Why?!??! How do you even come up with these bad decisions to make?  _

_Dick: Did you get that all out of your system?_   

 _Roy: Okay, Mr. Smarter, what exactly are you going to do if someone decides to hack the site and figure out who you are?_   

 _Roy: Mr. Smartass**_   

 _Dick: Oh, man, I didn’t even think of that. Dude, you gotta check that out and tell me what location people are gonna see? What will I do if someone finds me?_   

After he finishes his text, Dick rests his phone in his lap and starts laughing hysterically.  

“Master Dick?” Alfred asks, checking on him through the rearview mirror.  

“Just texting Roy, Alfie.”  

“Ah, I see.” Alfred’s lips twitched slightly as he continues, “Do try not to troll him too hard.”  

It takes a second for the statement to sink, but when it does, Dick laughs harder in his seat. “I have no idea what your talking about, Alfie. I am an upstanding citizen and I do not appreciate your slander.”  

“Of course not, sir. My apologies.”  

It takes five minutes for Roy to text him back.  

 _Roy: Fuck you._   

 _Dick: I don’t know how to funk._   

 _Roy: I swear to god!!!!_   

 _Dick: So, where am I exactly?_   

 _Dick: Well?_   

 _Dick: Come on, Roy. You have to tell me where I live. How else will I ever prepare for online stalkers?_   

 _Dick: Roy._   

 _Dick: Tell me, Roy._   

 _Dick: Where am I?_   

 _Roy: Somewhere in Russia. And you can stop your gloating anytime now, you smug bastard._   

 _Dick: Knock. Knock._   

 _Roy: I know I’m going to regret this… Who’s there?_   

 _Dick: Smarter._   

When Roy refuses to respond immediately, Dick starts spamming his phone with the word ‘smarter’ over and over again.  

 _Roy: Smarter who? Jesus funk! Just stop already._   

 _Dick: I’m Mr. Smarter-Than-You._   

It’s not his best joke, but it makes him laugh so hard picturing Roy’s face as he tries to figure out.  

 _Roy: I fucking hate autocorrect._   

 _Dick: How do you funking hate something?_   

 _Roy: No. You are not avoiding the issue any longer. What were you thinking?_   

 _Dick: How did you even find it?_   

 _Roy: I was looking through advice forum so I could find good advice to give you. Since you’re currently refusing to tell anyone. Like Bruce. Who you should have told immediately._   

 _Dick: How did you know it was me?_   

 _Roy: FlashBoy, you troll. In the future, the next time you want to keep your post anonymous, don't use the name you use to torment Wally._   

Dick snickers because he is responsible for all of the confusion surrounding Kid Flash's identity. To date, he's convinced civilians that Flash's partner is Flash Boy, Flash Kid, and his personal favourite Speedy.  

 _Roy: On the upside, I was right. If you're not going to listen to me than you have to listen to the random strangers on the internet. Tell Bruce. Now._   

 _Dick: They responded already?_   

 _Roy: You have seven replies. Read them and then tell Bruce._   

 _Roy: Also, if you even think of trying to hide in the middle of nowhere, I will rat on you so fast your head will spin._   

 _Dick: What? That was an option?_   

 _Roy: No. No, it was not._   

The car pulls into the garage and Dick hops out and turns to Alfred as he hops out. “I’m off to do homework, Alfie.”  

Alfred raises an eyebrow and Dick can admit to himself that he’s acting suspicious, but thankfully, Alfred is too polite to call him on it. “Very well, young sir, will you be meeting your friends later or are you staying in for the night?”  

Dick hesitates for a second. Part of him wants to stay here and wait for Bruce, but the rest of him knows that if he’s here, Bruce won’t return to the manor so he might as well go spend time with his friends. “I think I’ll go see the others.” Because if he’s lucky they may distract him long enough that he won’t have to think of Bruce until he’s ready for bed because there’s no way Bruce will take him out for patrol anytime soon.  

Alfred nods his head and pauses for a moment to rest his hand on Dick’s shoulder. For a second, Dick thinks he’s going to say something, but then Alfred seems to collect himself and enters the house.   

In the privacy of his room, Dick sits down at his desk and empties his bag onto it, dropping his backpack on the ground beside it. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and places it down in the corner. He manages to complete three math problems before he stops pretending that he doesn’t have something more important to do.  

It only takes him a minute to pull up his forum on his phone. And there’s a lot there. He sits there and tries to take it all in.  

 _DrbWrite_ _posted,_   

 _Oh, honey. It's understandable to want to shield a loved one from the knowledge that they hurt you, especially when it was not their intention._   

 _Pregnancy. I've seen many of us pregnant teens on this forum, and it never ceases to tweak at my heart. Love, you know the options. Abortion, Adoption and Actualization, the pregnancy conundrum trio. I can tell you that pregnancy won't be easy on your body at your age. Despite what traditionalists think, there a implications. Consider your child. Would you be able to care for them as though they are your only reason for life? Children become a driving force in your life since the day of conception. Adoption and abortion present the dilemma of whether you can truly come to terms with what you've decided. It's important that you don't regret this decision that you are making._   

 _All of these depend on someone knowing, though. Pregnancy is not a stubbed toe. There is a baby in that belly, and they grow and make themselves known little by little each day. Tell your guardian about what went down. It is not right that this burden lay on your shoulders only. If not, you may have to do some sly scheming. I don't know who I am suggesting this spy-level stuff, but you may have to make yourself indisposed to him. You're about_ _highschool_ _age in the UK, you can say something about making your own way and gaining experience. You may have to limit yourself to only phone calls and Skype calls._   

 _The thing is, if you hide all of this, you will be maintaining a level of dishonesty. You and that child both deserve recognition. As the child that could have been, the child of another, or the child that you have carried and plan to raise._   

 _I'm probably too blatant with my bias, but it is still a decision that is yours fully. The father may matter, but in the end, this is a decision that you alone have to live with fully. The father won't be stigmatized for an abortion, be called "heartless" for giving away the child of his womb, a "teenage floozy" for raising a child at the young 14._   

 _FlashBoy_ _, you need to talk to someone. I know how hard it must be to go through sexual abuse, and though my experience was actually purposeful actions that lead to pregnancy, I still believe that this is applicable. I was younger than you, and I spent years after questioning all those around me, doubting, feeling inadequate, weak, as though I had to shoulder at least some of the blame. Things like these mess with your mind. It may be best to assume another identity for a time and see a therapist? I just started seeing someone for this, and its only because no one I know well will know. I don't want to tell you to do_ _something_ _illegal, but, you need to gain an understanding that an encounter with a professional can provide._   

 _Let us know what you choose, love, and remember you have at least one person who is willing to support you no matter the outcome._   

 _Love! <3_  

Dick is touched by their kindness. It’s comforting to have all his options laid out in front of him and to be told that no matter what he chooses he will have someone willing to support him. And while the option of running off to the UK is not available for him—because Roy will tell—he feels like knowing that it’s not an option is better than not knowing.  

The thing that stands out the most to him, though, is the idea of a therapist.  

* * *

 About six months after Robin began his training with Batman, an emergency meeting with the League had been called. Normally, Robin would have been left behind with Agent A, but as a result of his ordeal with the Joker less than a month ago, he was a having a harder time dealing with the Joker's absence. He kept alternating between sobbing for the monster whom had bitten him and whining for Bruce to stay with him. 

It hadn’t been a good day for him, unlike when he had broken into the Justice League headquarters a week prior. Instead, it had been one of the worst days of his life. 

He’d fallen asleep and had been trapped in an awful nightmare about his time with the Joker when a soothing presence had drifted in beside him. Joker had him dangling off the ground and pinned to a wall with one hand clenched around his throat, in his other he pressed the blade of a knife to his cheek while his thumb dug into Robin’s mating mark. 

“Are you alright, Robin?” When he had looked off to the side, Martian Manhunter had been floating beside him.  

He blinked and the Joker was gone. 

Robin had shrugged, eyes looking anywhere but at the Martian. The scene changed and suddenly they were sitting on a set of swings in an empty playground on a clear and cloudless day that was at odds with the month of December. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Robin opened his mouth to refuse, but instead all of his problems tumbled out of his mouth instead. 

(He felt better afterwards. Much better. Martian Manhunter was good at making Dick’s problems seem small or helping him deal with them. It had helped, and if Dick was honest with himself, if not for J’onn’s intervention, he may have given up Robin altogether. Dick has no idea if the Martian ever told anyone about their talks, revealed the reason why he suddenly started appearing at League meetings, but he does know he’d been grateful for them. And while, J’onn may not be a viable option for discussing his pregnancy—because Dick can’t risk him telling Bruce—that doesn’t mean he can’t find another professional to talk to. Or maybe, he can just do his best to swear M’gann to secrecy and take it from there.) 

* * *

It’s something to think about, not necessarily something he can act on without thoroughly thinking it through first. Roy’s been nagging him about making terrible decisions lately, and while Dick usually has a plan for everything he does, he has been acting far more impulsively than he should. 

He doesn’t know if he can treat a child as if it’s his whole world. Currently, his whole world revolves around being Robin and being with Bruce. He likes his world how it is and he doesn’t want it to change. It feels selfish. 

He probably is selfish. 

DrbWrite claims he deserves recognition, that the baby deserves recognition, but Dick is convinced that letting Bruce find out might just make things worse. 

 xxfake posted,  

 _Hello FlashBoy, it seems you're going through a tough time.. As I can't say I've ever been in your situation, I'll try to give you an objective opinion._   

 _Usually, I would say "it's your body, and your life you just need to do what you know you won't regret, be it abortion or keeping the baby", however, you said the father was your guardian, so that means you are still a minor right? If that is so, whatever you do you'll need to tell him about it : if you want to keep the baby, you won't be able to keep it hidden forever so it's better to tell him sooner rather than later... If you want to have an abortion, you'll need to get your guardian approval for the operation (no doctor can legally perform it on a minor without a guardian’s consent). In any case, it's best to tell him, also, it seems neither of you consented in the first place so it seems fair to discuss what you want to do with the pregnancy with him._   

 _Finally, I would like to add my personal opinion on your problem: you are still young, you have your life ahead of you do you really know what you are getting into with a baby? Can you give a proper life to that baby? Put yourself in his shoes, would you like to grow up in an environment where you were the result of an accidental pregnancy, knowing that you're the reason your parent had to give up his childhood or career. I don't know if you have the financial means to support a baby. I personally don't think abortion is bad because the baby is not born yet, at this stage it's not even a baby yet, I think you have all your life ahead to decide whether or not you will want to have a baby. But if you feel like aborting is akin to murder (and I think it's not), the next best thing is to put him up to adoption with a family that are really wanting to have a baby and will able to take care of him (or her)._   

 _But ultimately, it's about looking at your life how it is now and how it can accommodate to taking care of a baby and making the decision that will leave the least regrets and (hopefully) no remorse._   

 _I hope this help you, and remember: this was not anyone's fault, you overcome anything if you stay positive._   

 Dick’s heart freezes for a second. It never occurred to him, even for a second, that he might need Bruce’s permission to deal with this. It makes sense, though, that as a minor he needs permission to undergo an operation, no matter how minor it is. The situation is getting worse the more he reads and Dick tries to think of a way around this. There are a couple of solutions he can think of off the top of his head, but each of them have their own set of issues he would have to deal with. 

He doesn’t know if he can give a proper life for the baby. While he knows he won’t have to worry about money if he keeps it, he also knows there’s more to raising a kid than buying things for them. He knows that he wouldn’t have to worry about school or anything else either. Bruce could hire him a tutor and he can be homeschooled or he can hire a nanny and Dick can just continue with his current school. But, in order for Bruce to do any of that, he would have o know first. 

He can’t imagine being in this potential baby’s shoes. His parents had loved him and wanted him, or at least that’s what Dick assumes from what he can remember of them. It feels awful, the easiest thing you can give to a child is love and Dick isn’t even sure if he can manage that much. 

Things would just be so much easier if he wasn’t pregnant and just the weight of that realization adds another layer of guilt to Dick’s shoulders.  

The only thing Dick knows as an absolute fact is that he is not giving this baby up for adoption. He’s either keeping it or— 

 _Little Sparrow posted,_   

 _To FlashBoy_   

 _I'm sorry you were caught up in the chaos of the poison ivy incident. It has been a very traumatic experience for so many people, I can only imagine someone as young as yourself having gone through such an experience and having to shoulder the weight of it on your own._   

 _I have to agree with your friend on this one though. It's best if you confide in your guardian about everything. The incident and your current state._   

 _I may not know your whole situation but I can tell you this much from my own experience._   

 _A few years ago I decided to become a choice mother and had decided to go through the whole experience on my own without telling my parents because they were old fashioned southern Baptist and I was certain they'd have my head for doing something like choice motherhood._   

 _It was so depressing, sad, and lonely working on it by myself. My friend whom I confided in finally convinced me to tell my parents everything. It was the most terrifying and cleansing experience in my life, I was sure I'd be disowned or something but to my surprise my parents were very accepting. Since then things have completely changed, I have people whom I love that I can talk to and who can give me guidance in my journey._   

 _Right now, by not telling your guardian what going on in your life, you're hurting him even more. This is not your child alone, it is also his and it may be hard for him to handle hearing at first but it's so much better than if you didn't tell him and he found out on his own. Trust me, if you really care for him and don't want to completely devastate him, tell him everything. Then both of you can work on moving forward together, supporting each other._   

 _Remember this when you start to get cold feet, it will help: 'what kind of furniture/environment am I creating for my child?'_   

 _I hope everything works out for you and your guardian and the path going forward is bright and glowing with warmth and happiness._  

Dick trembles slightly and puts his phone down on the desk. He doesn’t want to devastate Bruce. Everything he did, everything he does, and everything he will do is all centered on the idea of keeping Bruce happy.  

He doesn’t want to be responsible for Bruce falling apart and the knowledge that he could be is terrifying. He doesn’t understand how this could get any worse, he can’t even imagine what Bruce would do if he found out without Dick telling him. He’s not ready to tell Bruce and it feels like no one understands that, doesn’t understand that this knowledge would ruin him and Dick won’t do anything to jeopardize their relationship.

Everyone seems to agree that he needs to tell Bruce: Roy, Chocolatelover94, Om3gaPrime, DrbWrite, xxfake, esmeeDIange0, LittleSparrow, and Do_the_Cool_Whip. It’s a scary thought, though. He’s supposed to be able to tell Bruce anything, but Dick isn’t sure how to tell him that he’s pregnant with his child.

He gets that having Bruce and Alfred help him would be easier, but—and there’s a thought. He could talk to Alfred first. If he has to talk to Bruce, he can bring Alfred to do damage control or something.

            _Do_the_Cool_Whip posted:_

_Hey, FlashBoy, I’m sorry to hear you underwent all that at such a young age. I’m sure you’re very scared about what to do next and I have some advice for you. As a result of the disaster of the 22 nd, Bruce Wayne has started a new charity that is dedicated to helping all those affected. It’s called First Choice and it’s in the process of helping all those who became pregnant as a result of the tragedy to make their first choice in regards to the fetus. Whether that means providing money for an abortion, getting you in contact with people looking to adopt, or providing diapers or baby formula and other necessities to raise your child. No matter what you want to do, this charity is designed to help make the process as painless as possible. Unfortunately, though, as you are a minor, you will need your guardian’s permission to apply for it. I hope this knowledge helps you, I wish you luck no matter what you decide to do._

_Sincerely,_

_Do_the_Cool_Whip_

Dick gets up and throws himself onto his bed. There’s no way around it. He’s going to have to tell Bruce.

Tomorrow, he promises himself. He’ll tell Bruce tomorrow.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this before I returned to school after the winter break. I failed that goal miserably. On the upside, I got it out after only a week of being in class, so I have that going for me.

It’s easy to be brave about something before you have to do it.

Last night Dick had been so convinced that he would tell Bruce and Alfred, but this morning when he woke up, just the thought of having to tell them made him sick to his stomach.

Though, that might have been morning sickness. Why it was called morning sickness when it actually occurred whenever Dick was having a good time was a mystery for another time.

He’s nervous. Alfred is in the kitchen making breakfast, and if Dick is planning to enlist his help to talk to Bruce tonight, he needs to speak to him now. It’s hard, though.

Stepping into the kitchen is one of the hardest things that Dick has ever done. And speaking up is even harder. “Alfred, can we talk?”

Alfred pauses, one hand turning the stove off, while the other moves the pan of bacon off the hot element. He wipes his hands off on his apron, turning to face Dick. “Of course, Master Dick.”

Dick takes another steadying breath, reminds himself that he needs to do this, that he should have done this ages ago. “Alfred, I just—I’m—I—” He’s fumbling for words and that’s humiliating in a different way because ever since he learned to speak, he’s always had a way to convey what he wanted even when he hasn’t known the words to use.

And this is stupid. He shouldn’t be in this position. Roy was right. He should have just left a bottle of prenatal vitamins lying around and let everyone figure it out like that. Instead, he’s standing in the kitchen, stumbling over his words while the man he’s always considered a grandfather watches.

Alfred walks over to him and pulls him into a hug. Alfred smells like reassurance, comfort, and home. It’s a nice scent. One that has him pulling back, so he can look the man in the eyes. “Alfred,” he tries again, “I’m p—”

“Alfred, have you seen my—” Whatever Bruce is looking for becomes inconsequential the second he sees them.

He stands in the doorway awkwardly watching them and Dick can feel his confidence shrivel up and die. It’s one thing to tell Alfred. It’s another thing to tell Bruce and Alfred. 

He should and he knows he should. He needs to take this opportunity and just get this out of the way. He needs to be honest with Bruce and Alfred because despite the fact that he can face off against Killer Croc alone and without hesitation, the thought of dealing with this alone scares him.

There. He’s admitted it. He’s afraid. He’s scared to have an abortion. He’s scared to put up the baby for adoption. And he’s too scared to raise a child.

Richard John Grayson is afraid of the fetus growing inside of him.

The admission doesn’t make him feel any better. Honestly, it makes him feel worse. The knowledge that he can’t deal with this alone wages war with the fact that he should be able to. He’s helped save the world on multiple occasions and yet he can’t deal with the baby growing inside of him.

He’s ashamed really. He’s ashamed that he didn’t stop Bruce while he was in that haze of sex pollen and fear toxin. He’s ashamed that Scarecrow witnessed everything that happened. He’s ashamed that he administered a memory serum to an unconscious Bruce to erase his memory of what happened. He’s ashamed because he’s fourteen years old and seconds away from bursting into tears in front of two of the most important people in his life.

Because he can’t do this. He’s not ready to tell Bruce without the moral support of someone else. And how pathetic is that? Dick Grayson, Robin, the Boy Wonder, too afraid to tell his partner and best friend the truth. I’m pregnant, Bruce. You’re the father. It’s just six words. But, he can’t force them out.

 

He pulls away from Alfred. “I’ll talk to you later, Alfred.”

He keeps his head down. He doesn’t want to look at anyone and he doesn’t want them looking at him. This emotional rollercoaster needs to stop. He has enough issues with self control because of puberty and he doesn’t need pregnancy making it any harder. He stands on the opposite side of the doorway facing Bruce and it’s a surprise when Bruce reaches out for him.

It doesn’t make any sense. Bruce ran from him—like he always does—and Dick knows he has to wait for something life threatening to happen to him before Bruce returns—like he always does—to him. It’s how things work, how they have always worked because Bruce has the emotional range of a rock and Dick knows better than to pressure him to act before he’s ready.

It wasn’t until he fell in love with Bruce that Dick understood why people claimed it’s the ones you love who hurt you the most.

He feels safe in Bruce’s embrace. For a second, he feels like everything will be alright. Now. This is the moment he should tell Bruce. No pussyfooting around or avoiding the issue. He just needs to be honest and truthful with Bruce and everything will be okay. He can do this.

“Bruce,” he murmurs, pulling back, “I’m—”

And because the universe hates him, Bruce’s cell rings at that precise moment. Bruce pulls his phone out and stops the ringing, but the moment is shattered. His determination has fled, leaving dread in its place.

“Dick?” Bruce asks, expecting Dick to continue.

But he can’t.

“I’ve got to get ready for school.” Dick leaves the room, his head and shoulders dropping under the weight of his shame.

* * *

It’s lunchtime and Dick is standing by the front gates of the school waiting for Alfred’s car to pull up in front of him because he vomited. In the cafeteria. Where everyone could see.

He’s being sent home because people are worried that he might be contagious and Dick has to bite his tongue to inform them that if pregnancy was contagious the earth wouldn’t be able to sustain human life.

He can’t decide if he’s relieved or not. Being sent home means not having to deal with his peers. Instead he has to deal with his family. On the one hand, Bruce should be at work, so he can tell Alfred. On the other, Bruce should be at work, so he has to tell Alfred.

He doesn’t feel ready to tell anyone, but the longer he puts it off the harder it will be to confess.

He’s wallowing in his own misery when he hears, “Well, well, who do we have here?”  

It’s Alexander Shale, son of one of the business tycoons whose company was occasionally capable of competing with the powerhouse that is Wayne Enterprise.  

More importantly, he was Richard Grayson’s nemesis.    

* * *

Dick was seven years old the first time he got into a fist fight. He’d been living with Bruce for four months and training as Robin for one. He got into a fight with Alex and the fight happens because Alex said, “Omega males poo out babies.”  

At the age of nine, Alex had about as much understanding of reproduction as Dick. It was hearsay and weird theories that only a child could come up with.  

“No, they don’t!” Dick had cried, half offended and half terrified of the concept.  

“Yes, they do!”  

“No!”  

“Well, how else are they going to get the baby out of their tummies?”  

Dick didn’t really have an answer, but the thought had scared him so bad he’d begun tearing up. “That’s wrong! We don’t poo out babies!”  

“Yes, you do! You’re going to have a poo poo baby!”  

“I am not!”  

The other children on the playground began laughing, chanting, “Eew! Poo poo baby!”  

(And looking back, Dick realizes this whole situation was stupid and nothing worth getting upset over. But, at that moment it was more about his shame and fear than anything else.)   

Alex’s laughter was the loudest, which is why Dick punched him in the face.  

Alex yelped and stumbled back. He clutched his cheek where Dick had hit him and stared with wide eyes.  

“It’s not true! You’re a liar!” Dick stood there sniffling softly as Alex composed himself.  

“Yes, it is. And you know what?” When Dick refused to answer him, instead standing there glaring at him through wet eyes, he continued, “I bet when you poo out a baby, it’ll hurt so bad you die!”  

It was the thought of death that did it. His parents’ murder too fresh and raw a wound for him to stay calm as Alex spoke. Dick let out a war cry and tackled him. It was the first of many fights between them, but it was the only physical one they ever had.  

(And he totally won it.)  

* * *

Dick glares at Alex as he looms over him. Dick is still waiting on his growth spurt he was promised and he seethes silently that he has to crane his head back to make eye contact with this asshole. “Aww, what’s wrong Dickie-poo? Is your tummy hurting?”

Alex rests one hand above Dick’s head and stands so close to Dick that they’re practically touching.

“Do you mind?” he snaps, pushing the alpha away. “Ever heard of personal space?”

“Grayson, please,” Alex smirks, reaching up to cup Dick’s cheek, “don’t act like you don’t like this.”

“I’m not acting.” Dick knocks the hand away and steps away from him.

“Agree to marry me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“No.”

“Come on, Grayson, think about the future of Wayne Enterprise. Marry me and we can unite our family businesses.”

“I’m never going to agree to this, so stop wasting my time.”

He gets these proposals a lot. Most of the alphas in the school are told by their parents to make nice with the heir to the Wayne family.

His fingers clench into fists and Dick resists the urge to punch Alex in the face. The only difference between Alex and the rest of the people who bother Dick is that no one else developed a crush on Dick after he beat them up in a playground.

The car pulls to the curb and Dick runs for it without even a backward glance.

* * *

When they arrive at the manor, Alfred sends Dick to his room to rest. Instead, Dick goes to Bruce’s room and curls up in his bed. He needs this. He needs to be surrounded by Bruce’s scent because he’s hurt and sad and upset and stressed and scared and he needs to find the courage to tell Bruce that he’s pregnant, but every time he tries he fails.

He lays there for a moment before he sits back up. This is wrong. Something is missing. It’s an instinctual response and Dick reaches for the pillows to rearrange them. He pulls at the blankets and sheets and fluffs them up, as much as he can. But, it’s not enough. He goes to his room and drags the pillows and linens back into Bruce’s room and tries to arrange them properly.

It’s still not enough though. And it frustrates Dick how small it is. So, he pulls everything off the bed and drags the mattress into the centre of the room, before running to get his mattress, as well. Even with the space of two mattresses to work with, Dick still feels unsatisfied with the size and he’s forced to grab another mattress from the guest bedroom and lay it perpendicular against the short sides of the other two mattresses. It’s better now and he can work with it, but there aren’t enough blankets or pillows, so Dick is forced to scrounge through the many guest bedrooms and strip them down until he has enough linens to get the job done.

When he’s finished, he feels relieved to have this perfectly completed. Arrange the blankets to be comfy and warm, but placed in a way that they wouldn’t come loose if anyone moved around had been a hassle. Even harder had been his attempt to set up a safe little cradle made up of blankets on the side farthest from the door. He’d had to be careful to weave sweaters from Bruce, Roy, Alfred, Kaldur, and Wally into it, along with his own to make sure that the baby would always feel safe. The tiny cavity is deep and close enough to Dick and Alfred’s spots that he isn’t worried that something will happen to the baby over night. With Roy and Bruce’s spots closest to the door, he knows that all of them will be safe together.

It’s long, hard, and tedious work, but very rewarding. Dick climbs into his spot in the nest and reaches into little cavity beside him and tests it out. It’s a comfortable distance, not too close or too far from him. As he drifts to sleep, there’s a part of him that acknowledges that this is the best nest he’s ever built.

* * *

“Dick, what did you do?”

Dick wakes up to the sound of Roy’s amused voice. He hums softly, as he pushes himself into a sitting position. Looking at his nest, Dick can’t stop himself from puffing up in pride at the sight of it.

“That’s your spot,” he informs Roy, pointing to an area closer to the door.

Roy laughs and plops down in the area unconcerned. “You know when Alfred sees this, he’s going to kill you.”

Dick shrugs and while part of him is aware that Alfred is not going to be happy when he sees all the missing linens, a bigger part is more concerned in watching the baby’s spot as he crawls over to Roy. He needs to make sure that the movement doesn’t disturb the area in anyway, and he feels twitchy at the thought that the crevasse might collapse on itself if someone moves around too much.

“Alfred was right behind me, you know. He’ll be here any second.” Roy warns him.

Dick hums his agreement and lays his head in Roy’s lap. He’s still feels tired, but he’s also a little hungry and he’s going to have to do something about that.

“Bruce is probably coming with him.”

The thought of Bruce seeing their nest makes Dick preen a little. His pride and excitement waking him up more and sit up on his own. He’s eager to see Bruce’s reaction to their nest for all of five seconds before rational thought returns to him.

Bruce and Alfred will be here in a minute or so and Dick is sitting in a massive nest for no good reason.

“Shit,” he says.

And Roy laughs at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Dick was supposed tell someone by now. He hasn't. He was supposed to go to sleep, he decided to nest first. I have no control over this anymore. If he finds a way to wiggle out of another confession, I will be so angry at him. He can't keep putting this off, this is ridiculous. I have no control over these characters anymore.
> 
> Also, before I forget to ask again, what exactly do Americans do during the first prenatal examine. I keep getting conflicting information when I look it up. Is there an ultrasound or not? Like, geez, at the rate this is going, I'll just use a Canadian appointment because I doubt anyone will be able to tell the difference. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed your holiday and are having a good start to a new year!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unfortunately a short chapter, but I wanted to get it out now, rather than later. I'm going to try using an actual writing schedule to see if that helps me increase the amount of updates. If it works out, I might be able to start doing weekly updates. Wish me luck and I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

Dick punches Roy in the arm and his laughter subsides to a gentle snicker.

“So,” Roy says, “ready for reality?”

“Funk you.”

Roy’s smile slips into a scowl. “One of these days you’re going to have a typo and I will never let you live it down.”

“Why are you even here?”

“I was going to remind you that your first prenatal appointment has been rescheduled for Friday.”

Dick narrows his eyes and glares. “I haven’t even told them yet.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“As far as I know, last night you were completely determined to tell them this morning, and innocent little me just assumed you went through with it.”

“How long have you been planning this?” Dick asks exasperated.

“Since you told me.”

“Traitor.”

“If it makes you feel better—” Roy begins.

“It doesn’t.”

“You’ve basically ousted yourself all on your own.”

“Well, this is so not asterous.”

“Feeling whelmed?”

“More like overwhelmed, heavy on the over.” Dick groans and throws himself back onto his nest. “What do you think of my nest?”

“That it’s going to get you in a lot of trouble.”

Dick rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face into the mess of blankets below him. “I’m so screwed.”

Roy, because he is a wonderful friend, begins to laugh again. “Hey, Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“I told you so.”

Dick doesn’t have enough time to do more than punch Roy in the arm before Alfred and Bruce walk into the room. Roy stops laughing and there’s a moment of silence. 

Dick tries very very hard not to peek up at Bruce to see his reaction to his nest. It’s hard, though, and in that moment of silence all Dick wants to do is jump up and point out everything he did to build it. He wants Bruce’s approval so bad he aches. 

“Master Dick,” Alfred says cautiously, “is there a reason you have stripped every room in this hallway of their linens?” 

Dick resists the urge to flinch, he hadn’t meant to take all of them… just most of them. 

“I needed them,” he claims. When Alfred raises one unimpressed eyebrow, he adds, “For my nest.” Alfred still looks unmoved. “It’s a good nest,” he insists, “and they were completely necessary for my success.” 

“While this is the most impressive nest I have ever seen, Master Dick, I’m not sure if I agree to its necessity.”

Dick is torn between pride and common sense. Alfred, Mr. Perpetually Unimpressed, thinks this is the most impressive nest he has ever seen and while Dick would like to bask in that, he knows he has to explain why he hijacked all of the blankets and pillows. 

“I had to,” he insists, “I needed to nest.”

“And why is that, Dick?”

It’s Bruce speaking this time and that makes it harder. So so so much harder. But, he needs to tell him, he has needed to tell him for weeks now.

And he promised him.

The night Dick found out he promised to tell Bruce. ‘I need more time.’ Those were the words he said that night and Dick has had two weeks to adjust.

Roy reaches over and rest one hand on top of Dick’s. He gives a gentle squeeze and Dick squeezes back.

He has to tell Bruce. He promised.

“I’m pregnant,” he says. The words feel like they’re being torn from his throat and Dick can’t bring himself to look up at Alfred or Bruce. “The urge is harder to ignore because of the hormones and I just had to nest. I had to. And it had to be a good one, so I needed the sheets to make the best nest ever.” Dick tries to stop rambling, but he can’t. He has to get this all out now because if he stops talking Bruce will have time to respond and Dick’s not sure if he can handle his response. “I know I’m not supposed to nest in your room, Bruce, but I had to. I just had to. And I know, you’ve told me a thousand times: I’m not a slave to my instincts. But, they were too hard to ignore this time. I had to do.”

Silence. No one says anything and Dick can feel his eyes tearing up and he can’t look up. He doesn’t want to see how disappointed they are in him. He’s Robin, he never should have gotten himself in this situation. Batman trained him to well for Dick to screw up in such a disastrous and monumental way.

“Now, Master Dick, was that so hard?”

Dick head snaps to look up at Alfred who stands calm and unruffled, as if Dick hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on him.

“You knew,” Dick states.

He thinks of all the little cues of Alfred had given him over the past two weeks. How sometimes he looked like he wanted to say something, how he never so much as quirked an eyebrow at Dick’s weird food cravings, how he never looked surprised or concerned when Dick experienced morning sickness.

That doesn’t explain how he knows, but then Dick realizes Roy’s gone pretty silent and he’s a little tenser than he was a few minutes ago. “You told him,” Dick glares at Roy and is unsurprised when Roy just smirks at him.

“Yup,” Roy says unrepentantly.

“When?”

“About five minutes after you told me.”

Dick punches him in the arm, remembering how Roy had ushered him into the bedroom.

“Dick,” Bruce says.

Dick looks up and him and their eyes make contact and Dick understands. “You knew too.”

“I did.” Bruce is contemplating something. Dick can see it in the lines of his face and the intensity of his eyes. “Could you two excuse us for a minute? Dick and I need to have a long overdue conversation.”

“Of course, Master Bruce.” Alfred is turning to exit the room and Roy hops up to follow him after ruffling Dick’s hair. The door click shuts behind Roy and the two of them are left to stare at each other in silence.

After a moment, Bruce walks over to the nest and climbs in beside Dick. He opens his arms up enough for Dick to snuggle between them and Dick is elated.

“How long have you known?” he asks.

“Not very long,” Bruce says, as if it’s an answer. It’s not, though, and Dick scowls. With Bruce ‘not very long’ could mean anywhere between a couple of minutes to a couple of months.

“What tipped you off?”

Bruce doesn’t say anything. His grip tightens and he pulls Dick closer to him, burying his face into his hair.

“Bruce?”

Dick doesn’t understand it, but Bruce is beginning to tremble. The barest of glances upwards allows him to catch a glimpse of Bruce’s expression and Dick is taken back by the sheer amount of rage. It’s terrifying and Dick can’t help but wonder what’s put that expression on his face.

Not even the Joker managed to make Batman that angry.

It’s easy to straddle Bruce’s lap and press his lips to the man’s mating gland. It’s even easier to cling to Bruce just as tightly as the man in clinging to him. Dick may not understand why Bruce is so upset, but that doesn’t mean he can’t help him calm down.

It takes longer than Dick expected. It’s not a five or ten minute cuddle session which just about always works when they need to comfort each other. It takes over half an hour before Bruce can even bear to loosen up his grip on Dick.

It’s a sign that something is very wrong.

“Bruce?” Dick whisper’s, pulling back just enough that he can see the man’s face.

“Dick,” Bruce says, “I need you to tell me who did it.”

He sounds enraged and he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t sound like he’s seconds away from hunting someone down and beating them to death.

It’s terrifying. Dick doesn’t know what he’s talking about and there’s this sinking feeling in his stomach that makes him think he doesn’t want to know what Bruce is talking about.

He shakes his head softly and he doesn’t know why his eyes are filling with tears but they are. “Bruce?”

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me, Dick. They won’t get away with what they did to you.”

This can’t be going where Dick thinks it’s going. Bruce doesn’t know, can’t know, won’t know. He just can’t. “Bruce,” Dick tries to say, but it comes out more like a sob.

Bruce pulls back and gently cups Dick’s face in his hands, wiping his thumbs under Dick’s eyes, and Dick is almost surprised to see the moisture glistening on the tips of them.

He’s crying now and he can’t stop himself. Because Bruce knows and Dick doesn’t know how he found out or how much he knows. He doesn’t want to find out either. But when he tries to squirm his way out of Bruce’s lap, the man grabs him and wrestle him down.

“Dick—”

“No!” He doesn’t want to hear it. He never wants to hear what Bruce is going to say next.

“—you need to tell me—”

“Bruce, don’t say it!”

“—who raped you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is another short chapter, but that's mostly because this is the second half of the last chapter. This should have been up weeks ago, but the second I created a writing schedule life decided it didn't like my plans and interfered. Sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Also, you get three guesses as to where this is going, but the first two don't count because this chapter wasn't even a little subtle. Enjoy!

Dick doesn't know what to do. Bruce knows. Bruce knows and Dick doesn’t know how he found out.  

He can’t look at him. 

He's so far passed feeling whelmed that overwhelmed cannot even begin to encompass how he feels.  

He wants to deny it, but that would require him to speak and Dick isn’t sure he can do that without letting out incomprehensible sobs. He didn’t want Bruce to know. He didn’t want anyone to know. Even Roy who has been in this with Dick since the beginning, more or less, has no idea. Because if Roy even suspected that Dick had been—well, Bruce is still alive, so that’s a non-issue. 

It's not something he wants anyone to know, especially Bruce.  

He tries to turn away because he doesn’t want Bruce looking at him. Not when Bruce knows, but Bruce is bigger and stronger and more skilled and keeps him pinned down with ease. 

“Dick,” he whispers and Dick squeezes his eyes shut. “Dick, look at me.” 

Dick shakes his head and tries to hold back his sobs. He hears Bruce sigh and then he's scooped up, as Bruce shifts into a sitting position. Tucked into Bruce's arms, his face pressed against his chest, Dick allows the offer of comfort to seep into him.  

“Dick, talk to me.”  

A soft whine escapes his lips. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t even want to think about it. 

There’s a brief pause and Bruce changes their position again. Manoeuvres them until Dick is back in his earlier position, straddling Bruce's lap with his face buried into the crook of his neck and Dick can feel Bruce's mating gland pressing against his lips.  

Bruce is holding Dick just how Dick taught him to seven years ago.

It helps. Even though he doesn’t want to, Dick starts to feel a little better.

He sniffles slightly and tries to blink away tears, as he begins matching Bruce’s breathing.

Inhale. Hold. 2-3-4. Exhale. Wait. 2-3-4. Inhale.

Ten minutes later, Dick feels calmer. Less inclined to panic or try to escape.

“Better?” Bruce murmurs.

“How did you find out?” He needs to know what he did wrong. He thought he covered all his bases. There should be no evidence to indicate it, nothing to prove what happened. Bruce shouldn’t know.

Bruce tenses. “Dick.”

“How did you find out, Bruce?”

“There were plenty of signs.” Bruce pulls back and tilts Dick’s head up to look him in the eye. “You avoided physical contact for six weeks. You had finger-shaped bruises on your hips. You were body shy. Two weeks ago, I pinned you down and you panicked. There was your reaction when I made that comment about you being pregnant. And most importantly, after I passed out in Scarecrow’s hideout, you didn’t return back to the cave. The only reason you would go to a safe house, instead of our base, would be if you had something to hide.”

Dick flinches as Bruce lists reason after reason that gave him away. He was sloppy. That’s all there is to it. He left clue after clue after clue and Bruce is a detective. “I didn’t want anyone to know,” he whispers. He tucks his head back into the crook of Bruce’s neck and tries not to think about it. About how Bruce knows too much even though the man would argue he doesn’t know enough.

“You have no reason to hide.” Bruce begins to run his fingers through

“I’m pregnant, Bruce. I think I have plenty of reason to hide.”

“Dick, look at me.” Dick doesn’t comply immediately. It takes another five minutes of breathing in Bruce’s calming scent before he can bring himself to look at the man. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not your fault.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Dick, listen to me. I know that you feel like you could have stopped it—”

“I should have stopped it! I should have been faster or stronger or I could have made a better plan or—”

“You tried. It’s not your fault that some monster hurt you.” Bruce grips Dick’s face tightly between both his hands and rests his forehead against Dick’s. Dick can smell the faintest hint of coffee and minty toothpaste with every soft exhale Bruce makes.

“It wasn’t good enough. You trained me to get myself out of any situation and I couldn’t—I failed, Bruce! I failed to escape and if I can’t even—how am I supposed to watch your back when I can’t even take care of myself?”

The tears are back, tickling the corners of his eyes. Dick doesn’t want to cry. He’s not really sure what he wants. There’s a creeping sensation of fear crawling up his spine, it gets stronger the longer this conversation goes on. The longer Dick has to think about what happened.

Bruce closes his eyes and makes a familiar expression. It’s his ‘I Don’t Want to Talk About This, But I Need You to Understand that I Understand’ expression. When Dick first moved into the manor, when he was still hurting and unsure of how to cope, Bruce used to make that face whenever he talked about his parents.

“Bruce?”

“Just because you have the training to escape, doesn’t mean that you always will.”

Dick feels his heart beating in his throat. “Bruce—”

“My training didn’t help me two years ago when I ran into Talia. I know how you feel, but you need to understand. Anyone can be raped. Even me.”

Dick feels like he’s going to throw up. “Bruce?”

“She drugged me and then she raped me.”

It’s an admission that Dick would rather have never heard. Bruce has always had a weird complicated relationship with Talia al Ghul. He genuinely likes her even if he doesn’t agree with her goals or her methods. She hurt him, Dick can tell just from the expressionless mask on his face. And Bruce went through all of it in silence.

Dick throws himself at Bruce, wraps his arms around him and tries to hug away the pain. He knows what it feels like to have someone you care about hurt you like that. The only difference is he doesn’t know what it’s like to have someone intentionally do that to you. It’s another thing they have in common.

Another thing Dick wishes they didn’t share.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“I didn’t want anyone to know.”

They sit together in silence and Dick tries to offer Bruce as much comfort as Bruce is giving him. And Dick knows that somehow, someway, they will make it through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the amount of responses and comments on this fic has been amazing, so I wanted to add a little something extra to show how much I really appreciate so many of you taking the time out of your day to drop me a line. So, I've included below an omake of the other way I was considering having Dick's pregnancy be revealed. I originally scrapped it because it was too ridiculous and I couldn't write it without laughing like a lunatic. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> OMAKE: The other way the big reveal would have happened
> 
> Dick: Alright, I’m going to tell them. Wish me luck.
> 
> Roy: You don’t need luck. This will be over before you know it.
> 
> Dick squeezes his cell tightly between his fingers and tries to hold onto the confidence Roy’s given him.
> 
> Bruce and Alfred are already seated in the living room when Dick walks in. They watch him curiously, but wait until Dick sits facing them before speaking.
> 
> “Master Dick, why have you asked to speak with us?”
> 
> “I have something I need to tell you guys.” Dick admits. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for awhile, but—”
> 
> He’s interrupted mid sentence when Bruce’s phone begins to ring. Bruce looks down at it, checking caller ID before glancing over to Dick.
> 
> “It’s okay, B, answer it.” Because Dick will do almost anything to put off doing this until later.
> 
> Alfred raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Stalling, Master Dick?”
> 
> “Slander, Alfie. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dick cracks a smile as Alfred and feels a little better. Less like he might just puke.
> 
> “Hello?” Bruce answers the phone, but after a second, he pulls it away from his head bemused. It takes Bruce about a second to put his cell on speaker and Dick wonders who called.
> 
> “The reason for this family meeting,” Roy’s voice announces and Dick feels his jaw drop in shock. “is that Dick is pregnant.”
> 
> Alfred and Bruce stare at him and Dick can feel himself beginning to blush. “In other words: he is knocked up, there is a bun in his oven, he is up the duff, there is a bat in his cave! He is very very pregnant. That will be all.”
> 
> There’s the sound of Roy hanging up and Dick has no idea whether or not he should punch Roy in the face for this or not.
> 
> “Dick?” Bruce asks gently.
> 
> “I’m pregnant.” He says, and it feels less terrifying to say it out loud when both of them already know. Maybe he wouldn’t punch Roy.
> 
> There’s the soft beep of an incoming text message and Dick looks down at the notification popping up on his lock screen.
> 
> Roy: You’re welcome.
> 
> But, then again. Maybe he would.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that the past three chapters could be combined into one big chapter. Jeez. Also, this is a day late because the Nintendo Switch came out at the worst possible time of the year and I am now majorly behind in every aspect of my life. Anyways, the next chapter probably won't be up until mid-April because that's when I finish school for the semester. Hope you all enjoy the chapter!

After a few minutes, Dick pulls back and cups Bruce’s face in his hands. He thinks about kissing Bruce. On the lips. His thumbs gently trace Bruce’s cheekbones and Dick knows that it would be a good kiss. Their first kiss. He’s not stupid though, so he presses his lips to Bruce’s nose.

Part of him regrets the decision, but he knows that it was the right move.

Bruce pulls Dick closer and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Dick, I need you to tell me who raped you.”

The moment shatters into pieces as reality returns. He isn’t sitting here with Bruce sharing a sweet moment. He’s sitting here with Bruce trying to avoid telling him the truth.

Dick pulls away and fiddles with the hem of Bruce’s shirt. He takes a moment to compose himself before looking up to make eye contact.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Dick looks back down. “Bruce,” he says.

Bruce doesn’t respond and when Dick looks back up, he regrets it. Bruce is hurt and disappointed. And it’s all Dick’s fault.

It’s an awful feeling that makes Dick feel like he’s going to be sick.

“Why would you lie about this?”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“Dick.” Bruce cuts him off before he can finish and that’s probably a good thing because Dick has no idea how he was going to finish that sentence. He had been planning to lie. He didn’t want Bruce to know. He didn’t want anyone to know.

“It’s none of your business,” he whispers. It’s probably the biggest lie he has ever told.

“Someone raped and impregnated you. How is that none of my business?” Bruce’s voice gets blanker with every word he speaks and Dick knows that means that Bruce’s hurting, but he doesn’t know how to help. If he told Bruce the truth...

No. If he thinks Bruce is hurt now, he doesn’t want to imagine what he’d be like if he knew the truth.

He pulls away from the man and stands up. “I don’t want to talk about this.” The second he says it, he cringes internally. He sounds so bratty.

Bruce raises a single unimpressed eyebrow. “Tough.” He grabs Dick’s arm and pulls him back down into his lap. “You’re not going anywhere until I know the truth.”

“I guess we’ll be stuck here forever then.”

Bruce glares at him. Dick isn’t proud of the way he’s behaving, but he’ll keep acting like a brat until Bruce gives up on this.

“You need to stop acting like a child and tell me who raped you.”

Dick has a half a mind to snap at him that he is a child, but that would be a terrible idea. It would give Bruce more room to stand on and negate all the effort Dick had put into making Bruce view him as an equal.

He can’t say he’s not a child either because then he would have to tell Bruce what happened.

Dick settles for silence, pursing his lips and staring at the ground.

After thirty long minutes, Bruce finally gives in with a sigh. “Fine, Dick, I’ll let it go for now, but don’t think this is the end of this conversation. I’ll set up your abortion for next week. The sooner we take care of that the better.”

Dick’s head whips up to stare at Bruce. “Abortion?”

“Yes, Dick, an abortion. Thankfully, you’re early enough along that you’ll likely just end up taking some medication.”

“Why are you setting up an appointment? I never said I wanted an abortion.”

Dick is hurt. He shouldn’t be, but there’s something about the knowledge that Bruce wants to abort their baby that cuts him up inside. He’s being unreasonable, he knows. Bruce doesn’t even know he’s the father. But still... It hurts. It hurts a lot.

“You’re fourteen. Someone raped you. You don’t have to carry that burden around with you.”

A burden, he wants to ask, how could you call our baby a burden? He doesn’t, though, because that would require him to tell Bruce that he’s the father. 

Dick wipes away the tears that are beginning to leak from his eyes. Bruce doesn’t know. Bruce doesn’t know. Bruce doesn’t know. He just has to remind himself again and again throughout this conversation. It doesn’t matter how much it hurts to hear Bruce say these things because Bruce has no idea what he’s talking about.

 “I don’t know if I want to abort it,” he mumbles.

“Really, what are you going to do? Raise it? You’re still in school and you have no way of supporting yourself or the fetus.”

Dick jerks away from Bruce, slaps the man’s hands away from him. “Yeah, you’re right. I forgot I wouldn’t be welcome here after I gave birth.”

He doesn’t want to sit here in Bruce’s arms. He doesn’t know how Bruce could say that. Why he would say that. It hurts in a completely different way than his words from earlier.

Bruce lets out a sigh and draws Dick close to him. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did.”

Bruce tugs Dick’s head back enough that the alpha is able to cup Dick’s right cheek in one hand. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Bruce leans down and presses a kiss to Dick’s left cheek.

When Dick responds, it’s with a very soft whisper. “Yes, you did.”

Bruce tugs Dick back into a hug and Dick knows this is the closest to an apology he will ever get. “I would never kick you out into the streets.”

“Not physically,” Dick agrees.

But emotionally, that’s a whole other story. Bruce would have no problem emotionally separating himself from Dick if he ever felt the need.

It would be a worst punishment than homelessness.

If he were homeless, he could go live with Roy or Wally or Clark or even Oliver and Dinah. But if Bruce just put up a wall between them, an impenetrable wall that kept him emotionally distant from Dick, he would be stranded. He would hurt forever because Dick knows that he would never be able to recover from that sort of emotional wound.

Bruce doesn’t respond, just tightens his embrace.

“If you’re not going to abort, you have to tell me who the father is.”

Dick huffs, “Why?”

“So, I can come with you when you go to confront him.”

Dick pulls back, tries to mask the way his heart almost stops at the thought of Bruce coming with him to meet the father. Impossible, but terrifying, nonetheless.

“You can’t!” he blurts out.

Bruce looks down at Dick and Dick can feel his irritation oozing out. “You are not going alone to meet someone who raped you.”

Dick bites his lip. “Then I guess I’m never going to meet him.”

“So, you’re planning to have someone’s child,” Bruce says slowly, his voice getting colder with each word, “but you’re not going to tell them.”

“Bruce—”

“You’re planning to deprive someone of their child and a child of their father.”

Dick looks down, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

“I thought better of you.”

It hurts. It hurts a lot hearing Bruce say that. It hurts more because he knows Bruce means it completely. It hurts mostly because he knows it’s true. Dick is a terrible awful person. He is absoulutely horrendous. And now Bruce knows.

He curls up on himself, biting his lip and trying to muffle his sobs.

“Dick,” Bruce says, running one hand through his hair, “I’m not saying this to upset you. I’m saying this because you need to understand this. If you have this baby, it won’t just be yours.”

“And if I don’t have it?” he asks, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “Do I still have to tell them.”

Bruce doesn’t reply immediately and when Dick peeks up at him, he can see the thoughtful expression on his face. “If you don’t want to talk to the person who did this to you, then give me their name and I’ll take care of it.” Bruce speaks, but it’s not his voice Dick hears. Instead he hears the voice criminals hear seconds before Batman swoops down to deal with them. It’s the voice that has broken harden criminals into snivelling piles of flesh.

He doesn’t want to know what that can do when directed at Bruce.

“No,” he mumbles and tries to wiggle out of Bruce’s grip.

“You’re being ridiculous, Dick. You have to tell me who raped you.”

“No, I don’t. Why do you even care?”

Bruce rears back, for the first time during this conversation, and Dick knows that he hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean it. I just—I—Bruce, I need you to let this go. Please.” He reaches up and embraces Bruce, making it as tight as he can.

“Would you?” Dick freezes as he hears Bruce’s words. “If the situation were reversed, would you let it go?”

It makes his heart ache. The thought of this situation being reversed. Of hurting Bruce so completely and never knowing it. He would want to know. He would want to know that Bruce was pregnant with their child. He would want to know that he hurt Bruce, so that he knew he would have to make him feel better. To heal him.

He would want to know because then Bruce would be able to talk to him about it instead of suffering in silence.

So, then Bruce wouldn’t have to go through what he’s going through.

“No,” he sobs, the words slipping out of his throat before he can stop them.

Bruce presses his fingers under Dick’s chin and tilts his head up to look at him. “Tell me who raped you, Dick. I promise I’ll make sure they never hurt you or anyone else again.”

There’s a finality to his words. It echoes and rings with each syllable spoken. 

It scares Dick. It scares him because he doesn’t know what’s going on in Bruce’s head. He can’t even begin to guess at what the man has in store for his rapist. For himself.

“No.” He doesn’t want to find out either.

“Dick.” It’s a growl, a low one that originates in Bruce’s chest, but travels through Dick’s hands that are lightly resting there.

“I can’t tell you.”

“And why not?” Bruce’s voice begins to raise, falling short of actually shouting, and as much as Dick would like to give in and tell Bruce, he can’t. “They hurt you, Dick? Why are you protecting them?”

“Because I don’t know what you’ll do!”

He doesn’t know what coping mechanism Bruce will fall on. 

Will he throw himself into being Batman? Spend hours longer than he normally does patrolling the streets of Gotham, ignoring his body as it slowly breaks down on him. Become more and more reckless with each fight he gets in, until one day he makes a fatal mistake that he normally would never make.

Will he run? Withdraw from the situation, withdraw from Dick, until it can’t affect him emotionally. Avoid Dick whenever possible, never look at him, never speak to him. Lock himself away in a place Dick will never be able to reach him. 

Just the thought makes him start shaking.

When he looks up, Bruce is giving him a look. A look that says he’s only giving their conversation some of his attention because he’s noticed an anomaly. Something that doesn’t quite add up with everything else he’s discovered.

“Dick,” he says slowly, “who are you trying to protect?”

Dick doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything. He bites his lips so hard he tastes blood.

Bruce stands up, Dick falling from his lap, and begins pacing the room. He speaks loud enough for Dick to hear and he’s not sure if that’s because he wants Dick to hear him put it together or because it’s a habit formed from all the times Batman has had to fill Robin in on a case.

“That morning when I told you that many of the alphas had no recollection of what they’d done while under the influence of the pollen, you were relieved. You tried to hide it, but it was noticeable. I’ve never experienced memory loss as one of the symptoms of sex pollen, but you were rather insistent that it must have had a bad reaction to Scarecrow’s fear gas. It wasn’t fear gas that caused my memory loss, though, was it? That missing vial of memory serum you claimed you dropped, you used it on me.

“You’re going through a lot of effort to conceal the identity of your rapist. You would only do that if you really cared about them. And even then, the number of people you would go out of your way to hide from me is exceedingly small. You said the reason you won’t tell me is because you’re worried about my reaction. You were hurt when I suggested you get an abortion, and finally, you were lying when you said it was none of my business.”

Bruce stops pacing. He turns to look at Dick and the look in his eyes... It’s the look he never wanted to see on Bruce’s face. The reason he didn’t want Bruce to know.

Not that it matters now.

He doesn’t know what to do or say to make this better. He can’t figure out how to erase that look from his face.

“What happened that night?” Bruce asks, his voice hoarse and fragile. It sounds like it’ll break if Dick doesn’t give him the right answer. Like he’ll break.

Dick stands up and walks over to Bruce, reaches up so he can wrap his arms around Bruce’s neck. Bruce kneels down and Dick is able to bury his face into his neck.

“Not whatever you’re thinking,” he says.

Bruce pulls back and looks Dick in the eyes. “You’re lying.”

He stands up, steps away from Dick and already he can feel the ice forming, and with every step Bruce takes away from him, Dick can feel the chasm between them widening.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who decided not to hand in their final research paper for the year and wrote fanfiction instead? I clearly have my priorities in order. But, I've given up on school for the year and I've nixed the idea of summer school, so more chapters of this to come. Theoretically, they'll even come more frequently. Anyways, hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

Dick doesn’t know what to do. He knew this would happen the moment he saw the pregnancy test. He knew, without a doubt, this would be the end result. It doesn’t matter if her aborts the baby, the truth is already out, the damage already done.

Bruce knows and nothing Dick does can change that. Even if he managed to give him another dose of the serum, odds are he’ll just be delaying the inevitable. Bruce will figure it out again and Dick will have to go through this all over again.

He wipes at his eyes and tries to stop himself from crying. If he cries and Bruce finds out, Bruce will feel worse, and Dick doesn’t want to know what Bruce would do if he felt worse. Leaving was bad enough, he can’t handle anything else.

He’s tired. It’s a bone deep exhaustion that’s fuelled by his grief. He wants to go back to sleep, but he’s not sure if being surrounded by Bruce’s scent is making him feel better or worse. He needs to move his nest. He can’t leave it here. But, the thought of taking it apart makes him want to cry even harder.

It can’t stay, though. Bruce won’t be able to cope if this is still here when he comes to bed. If he comes to bed.

He reaches down and picks up a pillow, the first thing he plans to remove in the long process of deconstruction, but he can’t do it.

He’s being irrational, completely ridiculous, but he can’t do this. He can’t take apart this nest. He drops to his knees, clutching the pillow—Bruce’s pillow, he can tell from the scent—to his chest, and allows himself to finally lose control.

He cries for awhile. He spends a good long time just letting himself hurt. When he’s done, he feels a little better. Not enough that he’s willing to leave his nest and face the world, but enough that he can sleep without suffocating in his misery.

Dick lays down in his nest, rests his head on the pillow in his hands, and reaches for something to cover himself up with.

Bruce ran out on him. Dick needed him and he ran. For tonight, he can sleep on the couch because Dick sure as hell wasn’t moving.

* * *

Dick wakes up briefly in the middle of the night. He worries for a second, but when he sees a sleep-blurred silhouette, he relaxes and goes back to sleep.

It’s just Bruce.

* * *

The next day, Robin arrives late to the cave. He had two days of homework to do and while some classes, like math, could be powered through; others, like English, needed more thought and effort put into them.

He walks in to see the team preparing to leave. Roy isn’t there, though, and his absence reminds Dick that Bruce knows. Bruce knows so Roy doesn’t feel a need to babysit him anymore.

“Robin?” Miss Martian says. “What are you doing here? Batman said you wouldn’t be joining us for this mission.”

Robin hides his anger, doesn’t allow how he’s feeling to show. He hadn’t known there was a mission. Nobody mentioned it to him. Not Batman or Agent A or Red Arrow. Not a single person could be bothered to tell him.

He tosses them a grin because most emotions can be best hidden behind a smile and says, “Give me a couple of minutes and—”

“Robin.” It’s Batman speaking.

Batman who he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of all day. Since Bruce realized who was the father of Dick’s unborn baby.

It takes Dick a second to realize that he’s angry. Angry and hurting because Dick needed him last night. He needed him to be there for him and comfort him and tell him everything would be alright. That they would be okay.

But he didn’t and they’re not okay and Bruce is standing there trying to send his friends out on a mission without sending Dick, under the mistaken impression that being dressed like a giant bat will change the fact that he abandoned Dick last night and make it okay.

It’s not okay. They’re not okay. Dick is not okay and he knows that Bruce isn’t okay either.

He bites his lip and tries to remind himself that he isn’t the only one hurting. Bruce is hurting too and Dick needs to keep that in mind.

“Why are you here?” Batman asks, jerking Robin back into the moment.

“For the mission.” The mission you never told me about.

Batman tenses, the muscles in his body contracting, but Robin knows he’s the only one who can tell. “You’re not going.”

Robin straightens his back and glares at him. He doesn’t respond because they’re currently in public and he doesn’t want to give anyone the idea that things aren’t peachy keen between him and Batman. Even though they are currently among allies, it makes no sense to reveal that sort of weakness, to give anyone the impression that Batman and Robin aren’t functioning at one hundred percent.

“Head back to the cave.”

It’s an order. Robin has half a mind to ignore it. Batman isn’t his boss, he doesn’t have to listen to him.

But he will.

Batman has his weekly meeting with the League in another twenty minutes and it should last a couple of hours. It should give him more than enough time to get some work on an important side project done.

Robin turns to leave, but he feels a hand grip his shoulder. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. He lets one hand reach up to cover the one on his shoulder. “I’m fine, KF.” He turns to smile at him, but Kid Flash doesn’t look convinced. Behind him, Aqualad doesn’t look convinced either.

“Call me later.”

He squeezes the hand he’s holding and his smile smoothes into something more genuine. “I will.”

He wasn’t alone and he was thankful for the reminder.

* * *

The situation is about what Dick had expected it to be. Bruce hasn’t been keeping close tabs on Talia al Ghul, which means that tracking her down is going to be a lot harder than Dick would like. It’s unfortunate, but it’s not going to stop him.

Because Talia hurt Bruce and it doesn’t matter how angry he is with Bruce, he is not going to let her get away with this.

All information regarding Talia is dated and everything about it indicates that Bruce has been avoiding looking too deeply into her activities. As long as she’s not interfering with Gotham, Bruce is going to ignore her.

Out of sight, out of mind.

It’s Bruce’s coping method and Dick knows this, but that doesn’t change the fact that it hurts him. Doesn’t change the fact that Bruce was hurting and Dick had no idea.

But he knows now and he can do something about it. Because if he leaves this to Bruce, Talia will get away with it. Go unpunished for what she did to him.

Going through the files, Dick knows that he’s going to have to leave and physically try to track her down. He’ll have to go to her last known location and follow her trail. It’ll take him awhile and he’ll miss a lot of school, but it doesn’t matter.

Maybe if he gives Bruce some space, he’ll pull his head out his ass, and stop avoiding him. Because Dick needs him. He needs him to be there, even if all he does is hold Dick’s hand during an abortion or whatever.

He just wants to hear Bruce say that everything is okay.

It might be incredibly selfish of him to put all this pressure on Bruce. To need Bruce to hold his hand and comfort him when Bruce probably needs comfort as well, but it’s how Dick feels. It what he needs right now. What he’s needed since that night and he refuses to feel bad for how he feels.

Dick takes a deep breath to calm himself and turns his thoughts back on the task at hand.

First he has to find Talia. He can worry about everything else afterwards.

* * *

On Friday, November 25, two days after he started looking for her, Dick has determined Talia’s last known location and prepared for the long task ahead of him.

He doesn’t tell Bruce. He doesn’t even see him during his two days of hunting.

Bruce is still avoiding him and Dick is still doesn’t know what to do about that. Hunting down Talia will keep him away for a couple of weeks, though. Hopefully when Dick comes back Bruce will be ready to talk to him.

Dick leaves to start looking for Talia during lunch at school. He does so in full view of the security camera and makes sure to act suspiciously, looking over his shoulders and walking hunched forward, while he does. This way when he goes missing, people will assume he left on his own and not jump to some nefarious conclusion—like the time Dick had been absent from school because Two-Face had given Robin such a beating he couldn’t make an appearance for two weeks and everyone had assumed that Bruce had raped and killed him, burying him somewhere on the manor property.

He’s left a note in the Batcave to inform Bruce that he had an errand to run and he’d be back at some point and made sure to tell Alfred he had something important to do.  If that errand takes longer than the couple of hours they would both assume he meant, well, that was their fault for making assumptions.

* * *

It takes two weeks for Robin to track down Talia. She’s holed up in the middle of nowhere and as much as Robin would like to charge into her base, drop kick her, and demand to know why she would hurt Bruce like that, he has enough sense to know what a terrible idea that is.

Instead, he spends several days scouting the place out, finding the holes in the security, and planning his escape route if this goes south. When he does finally infiltrate, he expects to find a lot of things, but Talia sitting in a chair, using some sort of machine to pump breast milk into a bottle.

It actually takes a couple of seconds for the sight to sink in.

He wants to demand answers from her because if she’s lactating and she raped Bruce does that mean—

Robin doesn’t confront her. He slips out of the room Talia’s in and sneaks around the base. It’s a risky move, something he hadn’t planned on doing before. But he needs to know.

Bruce needs to know.

In a room with heavy security and guards passing by every couple of minutes, Robin finds him.

A small baby that can’t be very old. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, except Dick knows what Bruce looked like when he was little. He’s seen the baby pictures. He spent a good two hours once teasing Bruce about an adorable picture of him in the bath when he was two. He looks at this baby and all he can see are Bruce’s blue eyes, Bruce’s nose, Bruce’s ears, and Bruce’s hair.

This is Bruce’s son. He is staring at Bruce’s son. Bruce has a son!

Does he know about it?

Probably not. Robin knows Bruce has been ignoring Talia and he knows Talia has been holed up here for the past little while. If Bruce knew about this kid, there would be a file on him somewhere in the Batcave. But there isn’t.

There was a good chance that Talia raped Bruce, had his child, and didn’t tell him.

He wants to scream at her. Dick wants to walk up to her and yell and demand to know how she could do this. How could she have Bruce’s baby and not tell him? Doesn’t she know how much family means to Bruce?

But he can’t do that. He can’t preach at her about the injustice of what she’s doing. Because Dick was going to do the same thing.

He was pregnant with Bruce’s child and he had no intention of ever letting Bruce know.

It hits him hard. The knowledge that he is no better than Talia. That he had been planning to hurt Bruce in the same way Talia currently was.

He doesn’t have time to feel sorry for himself. He can wallow in his awfulness another time when there was less at stake. When he knows what to do about this baby. He doesn’t even know its name and he’s only mostly sure that it’s a boy.

This room is isolated. Security is tight, but it doesn’t look like anyone actually spends a lot of time in here. The baby sits in his crib, looking up at Dick with wide blue eyes, clutching a small baby blanket. The blanket reeks of Talia and Dick wonders why the baby is being appeased by Talia’s scent and not Talia herself.

Dick reaches into the crib, gently strokes the toddler’s cheek, and leans down so he can press a kiss to his forehead. The toddler looks at him, he gives Dick a long look that makes his heart clench uncontrollably.

He doesn’t know what’s going on; he doesn’t have enough information. He’s not even sure what the baby’s name is.

But he’ll find out. He’ll find out and decide what to do next.

* * *

The toddler’s name is Damian. He was born on November 11th last year. He doesn’t spend as much time as Robin thought alone because he has lessons every day that can last for hours. He’s barely a year old, Robin has no idea what they’re expecting him to absorb from the lessons he has no idea. Talia doesn’t come to visit Damian in the three days Robin observes the toddler. Robin doesn’t know why she chooses to stay away. He knows that she’s still pumping breast milk for him even though she’s never around. She also makes sure to send a new scent blanket for Damian every day along with some sort of treat.

He’s just not sure what to make of all this. The instructor always changes Damian’s diaper promptly, but he never gives Damian anything. Food, bottles, an objects for Damian are always placed out of his reach. If Damian wants them he has to get them. It doesn’t matter if he has to climb up or down something dangerous, Damian has to get it himself.

He had nearly had a heart attack watching Damian climbing up an unsteady ladder to get his bottle. Damian had fallen too. He’d fallen and made small whimpering sobs instead of the full out scream fest Robin had expected. The instructor had been unsympathetic, he’d picked up the bottle from where it had fallen and placed it back at the top of the ladder.

Robin had almost intervened then. Listening to those sobs had filled him with such rage that he’d been forced to slip out of the room before he did something he regretted. After when Damian had been left alone for a couple of hours for his daily break, Dick had picked him up and comforted him. Damian adores being held and cuddled and Dick refuses to deprive him of the affection he clearly has never gotten before.

That was this morning, though. But, now, several hours later, he watches from the shadows as a member of the League of Assassins walks over to Damian.

“It’s time for your conditioning,” he says.

Damian squirms away, tries to hit the man, but is dragged over to a chair in the corner. The man sits and pulls Damian over his lap facedown. He undoes Damian’s diaper and Robin wonders what the hell is going on. What could he possibly be trying to condition Damian for?

It doesn’t take long for him to figure it out because the man starts spanking Damian.

Robin feels like he’s going to be sick. The man isn’t trying to do any sort of lasting damage. He’s methodical and bored and clearly just going through the motions, holding Damian down long enough to finish what he’s doing.

He’s conditioning Damian for pain. Robin doesn’t know why, but he can take a few guesses. The reason doesn’t matter, though. Dick is not okay with this. It crosses a line that never should have existed. He doesn’t know what the hell Talia is thinking or what she’s up to, but he doesn’t care.

The jackass is unconscious in seconds after a good whiff of knockout gas. Dick picks up the sobbing Damian from out of his laps and rocks him back and forth. “You’re okay, Damian. You’re okay.”

Damian clutches Dick tightly, little head buried into his mating gland, as Dick sweeps around the room putting a bag together. There aren’t any toys he can take for Damian, but he can take a couple of Talia’s scent blankets that are still in the room. He has no idea how many diapers Damian’s going to need for the trip back or how many bottles he’ll need.

It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. He has Damian and he’ll take him to Bruce and they’ll sort everything out there. Anything Damian needs on the trip back, Dick can purchase as it comes up.

Against his better judgement, Dick leaves a note informing Talia of who has Damian and where to find them.

* * *

Three days later on Tuesday, December 20th, 2016, Dick walks through the front door of Wayne manor. Damian is sleeping in a sling still clutching the stuffed Batman plush Dick had picked up at the airport for him.

He’s exhausted. Taking care of a toddler is not an easy job. Before Dick took him, Damian had probably never been outside that room. He was equal parts excited and terrified by everything and Dick had the joy of dealing with that. Thankfully, he’d passed out in the taxi on the way here. Dick was going to hand him to Bruce and go pass out on his bed for a well deserved nap.

He hasn’t even finished taking off his shoes when he hears footsteps heading over to him. He looks over his shoulder and is unsurprised to see Bruce looking over at him with a disapproving frown. The angry Talia behind him on the other hand is rather unexpected. He glares at her. Just seeing her makes his blood boil.

“Dick,” Bruce states, “Talia said you stole from her.”

He stops, stands up, and takes several deep breaths to calm himself.

“That’s a lie. I didn’t steal anything.”

Talia storms over to him, her voice cold when she says, “Oh, really? What do you call this?” She grips him by the shoulder and turns him around enough so Bruce can see Damian sleeping in his sling.

Bruce tenses and Dick would like to comfort him, but Talia needs to be dealt with.

“Kidnapping,” he tells her, “because Damian is a living breathing being and not some inanimate object without feelings.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that did in fact just happen. I'll probably update the tags in a couple of days so as to not ruin the surprise for those who don't read the new chapter right away. On another note, has anyone else notice that time is insane in this fic? Like I just spent x amount of chapters covering one meeting, but in this one we literally covered three weeks. Anyways, for those of you who are wondering and lost track, like me, Dick is currently thirteen weeks pregnant. But more on that next chapter.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got stuck with this chapter for a while, which is why it's so late, but well. It's finally here. A little short, but better than nothing, I suppose. Enjoy!

Dick can feel his anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. How dare she?

How dare Talia claim Dick stole Damian, as if Dick broke into her hideout and swiped some valuable item. Damian is not an item. He’s a baby. He has feelings and thoughts and needs. Needs Talia has been neglecting.

A glance at Bruce from the corner of his eye reveals the almost imperceptible tremors in Bruce’s tense muscles. For all that he appears calm and indifferent to what’s happening, Dick knows the truth.

Bruce is furious.

Dick has been gone for almost a month now without any indication of his whereabouts and Bruce wants to discuss it. He wants to yell and lecture Dick, probably ground him while he’s at it, but he can’t. Not while Talia’s in the room with them. As long as Talia’s nearby, Dick is safe from whatever Bruce plans to do or say to him.

Talia glares at him. “Give me back my son.” Her grip on his shoulder tightens.

Instinct takes over and Dick finds himself snarling at Talia before he can stop himself. He’s going to rip Talia’s throat out with his teeth if she so much as looks at Damian.

It takes a second for rationality to catch up to him. To realize what he’s thinking and understand the implications of it.

Hormones, he reminds himself, are running through his body like crazy. It was one thing to have to deal with the hormones brought on by puberty and another to deal with the ones from pregnancy. Currently, he’s dealing with both.

He’s not in full control of himself. He hasn’t been in full control in a long while now. He needs to get it together. He needs to retreat and calm himself. He needs to leave before he actually does attack Talia.

Dick pulls out of her grasp and turns his back on her, ignoring the way she bristles in rage at the gesture, so he can face Bruce. “Damian and I are going to take a nap.”

He flees the room before anyone can stop him.

* * *

Dick’s instincts lead him back to Bruce’s room. He’s not surprised to be in here, but he is surprised to find his pillows in here, his scent still faintly clinging to them even after almost a month has passed.

Bruce brought them in here. He must have, there’s no other explanation.

It brings a small smile to Dick’s face. He wonders if Bruce smells them for comfort, presses his face into them late at night for just a whiff of Dick’s scent.

The same way Dick does whenever Bruce leaves for an off world mission.

Damian makes a soft sound in his sleep and Dick glances down to check if he’s still sleeping. His little face is scrunched up and one arm hugs the Batman plush tighter to his chest, while the other hand clutches Dick’s shirt where it rests on his shoulder. Carefully, Dick lays Damian down on the bed, gently prying his shirt free from Damian’s grasp. Damian whines at the motion, eyes opening halfway and lips parting.

Unlike the first time this happened, Dick doesn’t panic.

He shrugs the backpack off his shoulders and unzips it, pulling out an empty bottle. Gently, he places the nipple of the bottle to Damian’s lip and waits for the sleepy toddler to raise his free hand and take it from him. After a moment of suckling on the empty bottle, Damian’s eyes droop close again and the bottle falls from his grasp.

Dick finally releases the breath he’s been holding.

He waits another minute before taking the bottle from Damian.

He’s a little proud, though. In the past couple of days he’s really figured Damian out. Learning how to keep him asleep had taken an impressive five baby meltdowns in the three days they were together.

Bruce enters the room.

There isn’t anything that indicates Bruce’s presence, but there’s a sudden shift in the way the room feels. Dick ignores him, bends over Damian to press a kiss to his forehead, before standing and stretching.

He’s still mad at Bruce.

It’s been almost a month since he’s last saw Bruce. He’s missed him. He’s really missed him. But it doesn’t matter how much Dick’s missed him. When Dick left, they were not in a good place and just because he’s returned doesn’t mean they’re okay again.

Bruce hurt him. He really did. And just because Dick knows it wasn’t intentional—that Bruce only hurt him accidentally with his stupid coping methods that never work—doesn’t make it okay. He’s still hurting because Bruce avoided him. Ignored him and treated him as if he didn’t exist.

And Dick hurt him in return.

He ran away. Because even though he can dress his leave up behind a nice excuse of wanting to confront Talia for what she did, now weeks after he’s left, Dick is finally ready to be honest with himself. He left to get back at Bruce. To give him a warning.

If he’s going to treat Dick like that: pretend Dick doesn’t exist and doesn’t need him, then Dick will leave. There won’t be any talking about it or signs or threats to indicate that it’s about to happen. He’ll just pack up and leave. Give Bruce all the solitude he wants.

Because he has a limit. A point where it becomes too much. A point when he has to tell himself that he doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. He never knew he had a breaking point. In the back of his mind he always thought that there was nothing Bruce could ever do to push him away. He could try and try and try, but Dick always assumed he’d be willing to stick it out for Bruce.

But, he won’t.

He needed Bruce. He really needed him to be there for him and Bruce ran. They’re supposed to be partners, but Bruce bailed on him. Underneath all of his hurt, Dick can still feel a gaping wound in his back.

And maybe he’s not being fair. Because he betrayed Bruce the second he decided to erase his memories and never reveal what happened. Maybe, if he had told Bruce the second he found out he was pregnant, they would have gotten through this together. Maybe Bruce would have held his hand through everything and there would have been puppies and rainbows and sunshine and everything would have worked out okay.

Maybe they would have gotten together.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what might have happened. It barely even matters what should happen. All that matters is what is happening. The only things that Dick should be focusing on right now are the things he can affect.

Bruce is behind him. Dick can feel him, but still he can’t quite bring himself to turn around. It was easier to face Bruce when he had a distraction. With both Talia and Damian in the same room, it hadn’t hurt to look at Bruce because he’d had other things on his mind. But now that he has to confront him, to look at the man who had hurt him and whom he had hurt in return, Dick isn’t feeling quite as brave.

Bruce places a hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick draws in a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the bottle in his hands, waits until he feels calm, and turns to face Bruce.

Bruce doesn’t say anything to him. He just glares and Dick raises an eyebrow at him. “Can I help you?”

Bruce’s nostrils flare, the grip on his shoulder tightens, and Dick can hear the faint rumbling of Bruce’s growls. “What were you thinking?”

For a second, Dick contemplates playing dumb. But he’s pretty sure denial is what caused this whole situation to get as bad as it had. “That Talia was running around on the loose and someone needed to stop her.”

“Talia hasn’t been in Gotham in over a year.”

“Oh, you could tell that just from the little information you had on file for her?”

Bruce doesn’t exactly flinch, but his words come out softer when he speaks. “She’s not exactly an easy person to keep track of.”

Dick bites back the many many many smartass remarks he can say in response to that and tries to shift gears. “What she did to you was wrong. I couldn’t just let her get away with it.”

“I’m not here to discuss Talia.” Bruce says suddenly. The avoidance of the topic is so painfully obvious that Dick almost lets his jaw fall open in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“What were you thinking? Taking off without letting anyone know where you were going or when to expect you back?”

“What does it matter? I didn’t think—”

“No. You didn’t think.”

Dick flinches. He looks up at Bruce and understands what’s happening.

Bruce is angry with him.

It’s not something that happens often. Bruce is more likely to be hurt by something Dick does or says than angered by it. Dick is typically the one who gets angry before he gets hurt. It’s never been much of a problem before. Dick’s is usually pretty quick to calm down and Bruce is very good at pretending he isn’t hurting. Normally, they patch things up before they get to bad. Dick’s anger fizzles before he’s hurt and Bruce is comforted before his hurt turns into anger.

This might actually be the first time they’ve both been angry and hurting at the same time.

Dick swallows and when he sees Bruce his view of him is distorted. He takes a second to blink away his tears and compose his thoughts. “You clearly needed some space, Bruce, so I gave it to you.”

“You don’t know what I need.”

Dick steps back and really looks at Bruce. “Bruce, what are you talking about?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not my mate, Dick. You need to stop acting like you are.”

The bottle slips from his fingers and lands with a loud cracking sound. Damian whines almost immediately and Dick hurries over from him, so he can hide his face from Bruce.

“Obviously, Bruce. I never thought I was.”

“Things need to change around here. Since you clearly have no problem running off without a word, clearly I haven’t done my job correctly. You’re off patrol and you won’t be returning until you’ve learned to listen to me.”

Dick whips around to face Bruce, Damian curled up to his chest. “I don’t have to listen to you! You’re not my mate.”

It feels good to throw that back in his face. Dick doesn’t know why he would say that. He has no idea what the hell happened in the time he’s been gone, but obviously something massive happened. Something that’s making Bruce act like a ginormous jerk.

“I’m your guardian.”

“No, you’re not. Alfred’s my guardian.”

“Then what am I to you?” Bruce looks a little lost when he speaks, there’s a softness to his anger that wasn’t there before.

“My friend.” Dick replies immediately. He doesn’t understand why Bruce would ask this, how he could not know this, after all this time they’ve known each other. “My partner.”

Damian whines and Dick looks down at alert blue eyes and resists the urge to cry. He’s up now and Dick’s not sure if he’ll be able to put him back down and he’s so tired right now. All he really wants is to sleep, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting his nap anytime soon.

“Get out.” Dick says, looking over at Bruce who is staring at Damian.

“What?”

“Go to the store and pick up size three diapers for Damian. Make sure you get Pampers, not Huggies.”

“Dick?”

“And a car seat. Damian weighs twenty-five pounds and he’s thirty-two inches tall. Did you get all of that?”

“Why am I getting it?”

“Would you rather watch Damian while I go to the store?”

Bruce almost teleports to the door in his haste to get away.

“That’s what I thought.”

When he’s alone with Damian, Dick holds him close and breathes in his scent. He smells like family, resilience, and freedom. It makes Dick want to cry.

Before today, Dick’s never had any sort of serious fight with Bruce. They’ve had plenty of stupid fights, even more one-sided fights, but never one where they were both angry and unwilling to compromise.

Dick isn’t Bruce’s mate. That’s true. But he has no idea what it means for their baby.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are you talking about? This chapter has totally been here for months. Honestly. It was always here.

Dick lies on his side with Damian nuzzling his neck. It’s easy for him to wrap an arm around the baby and pull him closer. Damian makes a soft cooing noise and Dick runs his fingers through the sparse amount of hair on top of his head.

Damian’s face scrunches up and he rubs his nose.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Dick whispers.

Damian makes a little whining nose, whimpering and Dick hears a small little sob. Dick pushes himself up on one arm, using the other to pull Damian’s tiny hands away from his face. “Damian?” He doesn’t have any time to panic, though, because in the next second, Damian sneezes in his face and Dick jerks away from him.

When Damian settles down a second later, Dick wipes his face against the sleeve of his shirt and leans forward to press a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “That was a big sneeze, buddy, you alright?”

Damian reaches up and manages to grasp a fistful of Dick’s hair, pulling it closer to him. Dick allows this, letting his head be guided until he leans over Damian, their foreheads touching. When he smiles at him, Damian gives him the sweetest little smile Dick has ever seen, “Go back to sleep, Dami,” he whispers.

Damian scowls at him, shaking his head, and Dick sighs. “It’s naptime, Damian.” Dick lies down on his back, letting Damian rest his head on his shoulder, and goes back to stroking his head.

He needs to figure out what to do. Because Bruce is mad at him. Actually mad and Dick has no idea why.

 _“You’re not my mate, Dick. You need to stop acting like you are.”_ The words echo in his head and Dick has to force back tears. He doesn’t know what brought them on, what made Bruce say them, but that doesn’t change their validity. He’s not Bruce’s mate. He knows that. Dick has always known that. But hearing it aloud, hearing Bruce say it, brings a sense of reality that has always been missing from the situation.

Bruce wants things to change. He wants distance and boundaries and all sorts of things Dick doesn’t want. Especially not when they haven’t even figured out what to do about their baby.

In a way, it feels like an answer. It feels as though Bruce has already made up his mind about the baby. He doesn’t want it. That has to be it. That’s the only thing that makes any sense. In the three weeks Dick has been absent, Bruce has made his decision. He’s decided he doesn’t want anything to do with Dick or their baby and Dick has to respect that.

Which means he can’t be in Bruce’s bed when the man returns.

He’s not sure about Damian, though. He doesn’t know if he should leave Damian in here and retreat to his own room or bring the baby with him when he relocates. He doesn’t really want to risk moving him now in case something catches his attention and he loses interest in sleep, but moving him later means he might wake up and refuse to fall back asleep. There’s no real way to win this.

Damian’s eyes start drooping closed again and Dick holds in a soft sigh of relief, moving his free hand to rub Damian’s back. He waits patiently for Damian’s breath to deepen and the baby’s vice grip on his hair to loosen. In the three days he’d been responsible for watching Damian, he’s learned enough to know that it takes him a while to fall into a deep sleep.

He still has another ten minutes to decide whether he’s going to take Damian with him into his room or leave him here for Bruce to deal with.

There’s a soft tap on the door and when he looks over, Alfred steps into the room without a sound. He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at Dick for a long while with a carefully indifferent expression.

“Alfie?”

“Master Bruce has escorted Ms. Talia off the premise for the night. It is my understanding that she will be returning tomorrow morning in order to ascertain what we will be doing about Young Master Damian.”

“He’s not going with her!” Dick hisses. “They were conditioning him for pain!” It’s hard to keep his voice down, not when he can feel every one of his instincts urging him to hunt down Talia and make her pay.

Because she failed Damian. Damian is a baby and he relies on her for protection and nothing anyone says will ever convince him that what she was doing would protect Damian. Dick will sooner run off with Damian, hideout in the middle of nowhere with no contact with anyone, before he gives Damian back to her.

Alfred nods his head firmly, Dick can see the way his eyes harden and his back straightens, and he knows that Alfred will be on his side when this conflict reaches its climax. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, tries to push all of his anger and anxiety away so he can focus on what’s happening right now. “Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Dick?”

Dick hesitates for a second. He’s not sure if he’s ready to ask his question, not sure if he can handle the answer. But he has to know. “What happened while I was gone?”

Alfred doesn’t answer immediately. He looks down at Dick, giving Dick that same soft, but unyielding, look he’s renowned for. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Something’s changed,” he whispers. “Bruce is mad at me. Like really really mad and I don’t know why. We’re fighting and we never fight. When I left, I thought it would be best for him to have some space and I had to go deal with—” Dick stops speaking, cuts himself off because he’s positive that Alfred doesn’t know why Dick had to track down Talia. And it’s not Dick’s place to reveal that information. “I had to go deal with stuff,” he finishes lamely, dropping his eyes down to Damian.

“And there lays the problem.” Alfred sits down on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. “You should not have gone alone. I can understand and respect the decision you made to take action, but there was no reason for you to have to go at it alone.”

“I didn’t want to have explain myself to anyone.” He didn’t want to have to explain why he had to go after Talia.

“Be that as it may, Master Dick, I do believe at the very least Messrs Roy, Wally, and Kaldur’ahm would be willing to follow you anywhere on very little information. Any one of them could have accompanied you.”

It’s true. Something Dick doesn’t really want to think about. If he had asked, any of them would have come with him to track down Talia for no other reason than because Dick had asked. In fact, he could have taken The Team with him and they would have helped because he was their friend.

“I just thought that I had to do it on my own.”

“You didn’t. Even I would have accompanied you, Master Dick.”

Dick almost burst into laughter at the thought of Alfred joining him on his mission, skulking through shadows and giving baddies disapproving stares that sends them to wallow in their own shame for disappointing him. A glance at Alfred shows that the butler is serious, so Dick holds in his giggles to respond seriously. “Okay, Alfie. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Dear me, I’d rather hope there won’t be a next time.” Alfred raises one eyebrow and Dick can feel himself flushing with shame.

“No, there shouldn’t be a next time.”

“Good.” Alfred reaches over, one hand resting over Dick’s that lays on Damian’s back. “As for Master Bruce, I imagine that he’s having a hard time coping with your decision. While you were away, he made a decision on what he wanted to do, but as it runs counter to your own, he’s having a hard time coming to terms with the situation. He will come around, Master Dick, unfortunately, you will just have to be patient and give him time.”

With those words, Alfred stood and exited the room.

Bruce made a decision? A decision that’s the opposite of what Dick wants. The thought makes Dick’s stomach twist into knots. Dick doesn’t even know what his decision is. He’s flipped between wanting to keep the baby and wanting to abort it so often, he’s not sure what he’ll want at any given point of the day.

Though, if he’s honest with himself, ever since he’s started taking care of Damian, he’s kinda wanted to keep it. He’s enjoying it. Taking care of Damian, while stressful, has been strangely rewarding. Every smile and laugh he manages to force out of Damian is rejuvenating in its own way.

So, if he wants to keep it that means Bruce has decided that he doesn’t want to keep it. And that hurts. That really really hurts. Bruce doesn’t want their baby and there’s nothing Dick can really do about that. He can’t force Bruce to want it and Bruce can’t force him to want to abort it.

He doesn’t know what to do, and in the end, Dick falls asleep desperately trying to find some sort of solution to his problems.

* * *

Dick wakes up to the feeling of eyes on him. Damian pats his face and Dick feigns sleeping for just a little longer as he takes a breath and categorizes the scents in the room.

Trust. Reliability. Honesty. That scent doesn’t surprise him, the knowledge that Roy hasn’t bothered to wake him up is far more startling.

Laughter. Friendship. Smiles. Wally being here is less of a surprise and more of an expectation at this point in their friendship. His agitated silence, the way Dick can hear him pacing around the room ever so slightly, causes him to wonder just how exhausted he must look that Wally’s letting him sleep instead of demanding answers.

Determination. Patience. Acceptance. Kaldur’s presence is more of a surprise than it should be. Dick isn’t as close to Kaldur as he is to the others and that’s probably because he’s never had a crush on him. That’s not much of an excuse, though. The four of them have always been close, whenever one of them got into trouble, the other three always made sure to jump knee deep into it as well.

Dick takes another breath and allows the scents to wash over him. He’s heard people describe the scents of others through familiar smells. Like lavender or vanilla or cinnamon. It’s never been like that for Dick, though. He’s never smelt anything like that in another human’s scent, not unless they use a scented product like body wash or lotion. For him, whatever he associates an individual with is what he categorizes their scent as. He can't think of his time with Wally as anything but an easygoing, but deep friendship, and so Wally's scent has always made Dick think of laughter and smiles.

Damian whimpers, a little sob slipping out of his throat as he tugs at Dick’s hair again. Dick sits up, scooping Damian into his lap and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Aw, Dami, what’s wrong? Is Wally scaring you with all his pacing?”

The blanket he was tucked under pools down to his waist and Dick takes a second to stare at it, positive he fell asleep on top of it.

“What the actual fuck?” Roy enunciates each word with a sort of seething rage that Dick probably shouldn’t find nearly as funny as he does.

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” he says, instead of: ‘I don’t know what funk actually is.’

“Dick, what the hell?” It’s Wally speaking this time, while Roy leans forward in a failed gamble to wring Dick’s neck. “Where have you been?”

“Kidnapping babies.” He says it with an amused snort that he can’t quite reign in even though he knows he should.

"You're joking, right?" Wally's voice hits just the right note of incredulous and concern as he looks down at him.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Dick gestures at Damian who whimpers softly and presses his face into the crook of his neck.

"Oh my fucking God." Roy groans, flopping down across the foot of the bed and covering his eyes with one arm. "Haven't you already filled up your fucking quota on bad decisions?"

"Funking God? I had no idea you were so religious, Roy." He may have resisted temptation the first time, but there's no way he's letting such a good opportunity pass him by again.

"I will murder you in your bed."

"What does that even mean?" Wally laughs, sitting beside Dick in the blink of an eye. Damian peers up at him and scowls, wrapping both arms around Dick's neck and nuzzling the skin there stubbornly.

He's scent marking. It's really cute and Dick can barely hold in the snickers that want to escape at the action.

"I don't want to hear a goddamn word out of you," Roy snarls and Dick has to try so hard not to burst into laughter.

"Of course not." Dick pauses, lets Roy get nice and comfortable in the moment. "You should know by now I'd never judge you for your beliefs. If you want to worship the Power of Funk, then you totally have that right."

Roy lets out an enraged sort of sound, one that starts out as a word, but quickly devolves into an angry snarl and becomes incomprehensible.

"Dick," Kaldur speaks for the first time, "instead of antagonizing Roy, perhaps you should fill us in on what's been going on." He sits down cross-legged on the bed and watches him with those calm unassuming eyes.

And maybe it's because it's Kaldur'ahm who's asking that finally gets him to talk. Kaldur who is always good to go to for advice because he's capable of remaining detached, level-headed, and nonjudgmental. Kaldur who can look at most situations and make sense of them in ways Wally and Roy can't.

He takes a deep breath, presses a kiss to Damian's head, and looks Kaldur in the eyes. "I'm pregnant." And the entire story from conception to today comes out.

When he's finished, when he's told everything that he can think of, Dick collapses backwards onto the bed and Damian giggles as he falls with him.

"Holy shit, man," Wally whispers, dropping down beside him. "Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

Dick shrugs, unable or maybe unwilling to admit the truth. That he was ashamed and embarrassed and he hadn't wanted anyone to know what had happened to him. That is still ashamed and embarrassed.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Wally snaps at Roy, sitting up and poking him in the side.

"Because I didn't want to."

Kaldur looks at the two and rolls his eyes, attention coming back to Dick. "That's not everything, is it?"

"Not really." A foul smell fills the room and Dick glances down to his lap at Damian who waves his Batman plush around without a care in the world. "Dami, did you poo?"

Damian has the nerve to give Dick the most scandalized expression Dick has ever seen in his life and shakes his head. 

"Can I check?"

Damian sighs. Actually full out sighs, as if Dick is the most exasperating individual he's ever had the displeasure of dealing with. It makes Dick laugh even though he knows he shouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" He tilts Damian forward just enough that he can pull at the back of his diaper and peek inside. It's unexpectedly clean, but when Dick gently squeezes the front of his diaper, the material is disturbingly squishy. "Okay, Dami, you were right. There's no poop, but you are wet, so we're going to have to change you. Okay?"

Damian nods his head and Dick picks up a pillow and throws it at Wally's head. "Hand me a diaper and the wet wipes." He points to the items sitting on the dresser, lined up in a neat row, and lays Damian down on his back.

He hadn't asked Bruce for wet wipes, but he's a little relieved that he had the foresight to grab them. Or mention his errand to Alfred who pointed out the missing item. It takes very little time or effort to get Damian cleaned up and in new diaper, the baby is so well behaved. When he's done, he wraps up the diaper and tosses it into the trashcan on the opposite side of the room.

"All done, Dami." Dick bends over and kisses to his face. He doesn't stop until Damian is squealing with laughter and trying to squirm away.

"You're such a mom." Wally snickers.

"What's that, Wally? You want me to tell Alfred not to bother not making us any snacks? Well okay then."

"Dude! Not funny!"

"I disagree," Roy chuckles, reaching up to pull Wally down into a headlock.

"You haven't answered my question, Dick." Kaldur says, completely calm and unruffled. The only one who had listened to his story without a single interruption. Roy had plenty of smartass remarks to make and Wally too impatient to hear everything without asking questions that would be clarified if he kept his mouth shut a little longer. "What else is on your mind?"

Dick hesitates. Not because he doesn't want to tell Kaldur, but because he's unable to find the words he needs to make everything clear. "It's just Bruce," he begins, "I don't get what's going on with him."

Wally opens his mouth to say something, but Kaldur silences him with a look, while Roy props himself up on his elbows to watch closer. "Explain."

"When I told him I was pregnant, he didn't really do anything. He just started avoiding me and I know that's what he usually does... But, I don't know, I kept expecting him to tell me what he wanted to do about the baby." 'To tell me that everything would be okay.' "And even now that I'm back, he's still... He told me that things need to change and I don't even know what that means. I just... I don't know what he wants anymore."

"Have you asked him?"

"What?" For a second, Dick just stares at Kaldur, unable to make sense of his words.

"Have you asked Bruce what he wants, what he means when he says things have to change?"

"Well, no."

"Then it's clear what you need to do next." Kaldur says it so simply, like the next thing Dick needs to do is so obvious and easy. Dick's been agonizing over what will happen next. How he's going to deal with having a baby when he's not even old enough to take care of himself.

"But—" 

"If there are any misunderstanding between you and Bruce, you must clear them up now. As soon as possible."

"If Bruce wanted to talk to me about this, he would have said something before."

"You're being unreasonable, Dick."

Roy lets out a choked sound and wrestles Wally down when his offended spluttering begins to resemble words, slapping one hand over his mouth. "Oh no, we're staying out this one, motormouth."

Dick tries very hard not to feel hurt and offended by that statement. Bites his lip and focuses on Damian because that's easier than looking at Kaldur.

"Whether or not Bruce wants to talk to you is irrelevant. He doesn't get to decide if it happens. It will happen one way or another." Kaldur reaches forward and tilts Dick's head up and forces him to look at him. "But that's not what the problem is. You have always been the first person to advocate Bruce's status as a human, which is why I don't understand your desire for him to act inhuman."

"I don't want him to—"

"According to your story, it took you six weeks to begin healing your rape." There's a sudden silence coming from Roy and Wally and Dick forces himself to ignore. He hadn't mentioned that, had intentionally left it out. So, of course, Kaldur had to go and read between the lines. "And it took you an additional two weeks to come to terms with your pregnancy. In conclusion, it took you roughly eight weeks to collect yourself enough to speak to Bruce, and yet, you seem to have this expectation that he should have been able to process everything in a matter of minutes."

Dick pauses. He just stops to think about this. He's never thought about the situation with Bruce like that. It took Dick weeks before he came clean and even then, he knows he hadn't been fully ready to talk about it. Given a choice, Dick knows he would have liked to have a little more time to make sense of the situation.

But Bruce had days. Three days to cope and try to comprehend everything. And Bruce is bad at coping. So so so bad at it. He wouldn't have been able to do it in such a short amount of time and Dick knows that. He's always known that. 

But that doesn't make this any easier.

"Bruce should have handled it better," Kaldur continues. "There is no excuse for him avoiding you when you would have needed him most. But there is also no excuse for you running off without informing anyone what was going on. You could have waited for his response. You should have waited for it. He should have handled it better and the same can be said for you."

Dick nods his head, equally embarrassed and ashamed of his own actions.

"Now is not the time to dwell on your past mistakes. Instead, you must begin planning for your future and the only way to do that..." Kaldur trails off, looking at Dick expectantly.

"Is to talk to Bruce." Dick agrees.

"Indeed, my friend." Kaldur smiles at him and something about it relaxes Dick. "And I suggest that the next time that you are having issues of this magnitude, you come talk to us before you rush off to do anything reckless. We will do our best to help you."

"Okay." And Dick feels better. Better than he's felt in days.

"Everything will be okay."

It's the first time anyone has said those words to him. Words that Dick has been so desperate to hear. He reaches out and yanks Kaldur back into a hug, almost squishing Damian between them. He doesn't let go until Damian starts whining, doing his best to wiggle out from between them.

"Thanks for helping me get whelmed."

"Anytime."

They share a smile, before Roy sits up and glares at Dick. "Raped?" he snarls and Wally vanishes for a second before he wraps both arms around Dick in an attempt to either comfort or crush him. Dick's not really sure which one it is.

Damian stands up on the bed, before holding onto Dick's knees for balance and squatting down. An intense look of concentration overtakes his expression and Dick resists the urge to cackle at the way his face scrunches up. Dick watches him, patiently waiting for him to finish, willing to use any excuse to avoid looking at Roy.

"What is he doing?" Wally asks, staring down at Damian. Dick looks at him, thinks about answering, but ultimately knows it will be much funnier if he waits for Damian to finish.

Eventually, Damian stands up and stares at Dick expectantly. "All done?" he asks.

Damian nods his head with the most serious expression his little face can muster.

"Done what?" Wally repeats, leaning forward to inspect Damian.

"Pooping."

And Wally jerks away from Damian so fast his head smashes against the headboard and Dick makes zero attempt to reign in his laughter.

Definitely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha. It's been a really long time since I updated this. Like embarrassingly long. I'm so so so sorry. This was also supposed to be longer, but I cut it in half because of the massive gap between updates. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually forgot to update this two weeks ago. Sorry about that. I know it's been a long wait, but I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

Dick doesn’t see Bruce until the next morning. He waits for him while he sits in his own room and goes through his homework. Or, while he does his Spanish homework, Wally zooms through his science, Roy reluctantly completes his math homework, and Kaldur jots down answers for his geography class.

Because everyone knows that real friends will do your homework for you. Also, Dick has so much blackmail material on both Roy and Wally, they don’t have much of a choice. Kaldur, on the other hand, is just an all around nice guy who’s always willing to help out.

Dick is up until four in the morning waiting for Bruce, before he’s forced to accept that the man is not going to come home until tomorrow. He picks up his cell phone, gently unwinding himself from Damian who is asleep on his chest, slips into the bathroom, sits down in the bathtub, and calls Bruce. The longer he sits waiting for Bruce to answer the phone, the more convinced he becomes that the man won’t answer. The soft click and gruff, “Hello,” when Bruce finally answers actually stuns him into a temporary silence.

“Bruce,” Dick begins, before realizing that he has no idea how he’s planning to finish that sentence. He has no idea what he’s planning to say next.

“What?” Bruce’s tone is perfectly blank in a way that hurts Dick far more than if the man had simply refused to answer his phone.

He wants to cry. Dick doesn’t know why, but he’s suddenly overwhelmed with a burning sensation in his eyes, and he's sniffling softly before he can stop himself. He’s hit with a deep gut-wrenching sense of loss and yearning because he misses Bruce. He really misses him and the easy way things used to be between the two of them. In this moment, he’s suddenly aware of how thoroughly things are screwed up between them.

He’s suddenly aware of how much of it is his fault.

“I’m sorry,” Dick finally says. That isn’t why he’d originally called him. Dick had been planning to interrogate him, to demand answers of his whereabouts, to order him to come back home. But, this is what slips out of his mouth instead and Dick can’t help but feel that this is more important and necessary.

Because he’s spent the past couple of months doing stupid or hurtful—or a combination of both—things and Bruce has been forced to put up with his behaviour. And if Dick ever expects to fix anything than he needs to address his wrong-doings. He needs to apologize so they can finally begin to heal and move on from this.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I tried to keep the truth from you. I’m sorry I erased your memories." Dick bites back a sob that tries to escape when his tears finally begin to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to sort out your thoughts. I’m sorry I ran away. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He wants to stop speaking there, but he’s afraid that if he stops, he won’t be able to start back up again. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just—I just didn’t want you to know because I thought if you knew then… well, I thought if you knew then this would happen. I just—I just wanted to protect you for once, but I failed and I hurt you instead. I’m sorry, Bruce, I’m so so sorry for everything.”

Dick feels better, not completely better because nothing has been resolved and Bruce hasn’t even attempted to say a word, but he knows now that Kaldur was right. He really does need to talk to Bruce and clear the air between the two of them.

“Please come home, Bruce.” Because Dick misses him and he feels hurt and abandoned because Bruce just took off without a word to him. And this must be how Bruce felt when Dick took off to hunt down Talia.  Dick almost drowns in the flood of guilt and shame that realization brings forth. “If you don’t want to see me, I can leave and go—”

“No.” Bruce finally speaks, his voice angry and hoarse in a way that makes Dick wonder how much of it is Bruce speaking and how much of it is his instincts. “Don’t you dare leave the manor.”

“But—”

“Stay put.” Bruce orders. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Dick nods his head and spends a comforting moment just listening to Bruce’s breathing. “Bruce, I love you.”

Dick isn’t sure how he’s expecting Bruce to react when he says this; but, he’s sure he’s not expecting Bruce to make a strangled, almost pained, noise. “I have to go,” he says, his voice strained and shaking slightly.

“But—”

“Goodnight.” Bruce hangs up the phone and Dick is left an odd mixture of concern and hurt because that was weird, even for Bruce.

In the end, there’s nothing he can really do, so Dick climbs out of the bathtub and crawls into bed, right as Damian sneezes so hard, he scares himself awake.

* * *

In the morning, Dick is woken by a whiny Damian whose only goal is to be able to have all of the existing morning cuddles in the world. He cries when Dick lays him on his back, making desperate grabby hands for Dick while Dick peels the tabs for his diaper off. “It’s okay, Dami,” he promises, “everything’s okay.” He rests his forehead against the toddler’s, gently pries tiny fingers out of his hair after a moment, and pulls away the second the sobs begin to subside.

They return immediately.

Dick flounders for a moment about what to do. He scoops up Damian, the flaps and legs of his Robin onesie dangle awkwardly over his half removed diaper . “It’s okay, Baby D, it’s okay.” Dick tries not to think about it too much. If he thinks about it too much, he might start panicking because Damian has never acted like this before and Dick isn’t sure what the fuck he’s supposed to do to comfort him.

He’s not even sure what the problem is.

Changing Damian while holding him is an awful confusing experience that Dick hopes to never re-experience, but puzzling the logistics of it distracts him from freaking out over Damian’s behaviour. The end result is something Dick will continue fiddling with because he just knows it’s going to leak at the worst possible time.

He ties the legs of the onesie around Damian’s waist because trying to deal with the snaps right now sounds like another logistics nightmare. He stands up, resting Damian on his hip, the baby immediately burying his face into the crook of Dick’s neck, and gently rubs Damian’s back, hushing him.

Downstairs Dick catches a whiff of Bruce’s scent that has him rushing to the formal sitting room before he can think better of it. It’s only the faint scent of intruder, imposter, infringer that forces him to stop instead of barrelling into the room.

Talia.

Talia is in there. With Bruce. With Bruce and Alfred. Dick takes a moment, half a heartbeat, to collect and calm himself. He walks into the room, mask of nonchalance firmly in place.

His mask almost shatters when Damian takes one look at Talia and squirms out of his arms to run to his mother. Her lips curl into a smirk as she picks up Damian and deposits him into her lap. Damian plucks and pulls at her shirt and doesn’t stop until he successfully moves it out of his way enough to tug at her bra. Talia stares at Dick the entire time, exuding an almost suffocating amount of smugness, as she unlatches a bra strap and pulls the cup out of the way, allowing Damian to nurse.

Sitting in the armchair, Alfred standing behind him, Bruce gives Dick a subtle hand signal. Do not engage.

Dick does not acknowledgement it. He can’t. Not with the way Talia is scrutinizing his every move; instead, he saunters over to Bruce and sprawls across the man’s lap. Bruce tenses, but Dick knows he won’t push him away. Not while Talia’s in the room. He watches with his own satisfied smirk as Talia’s smugness slips away and the woman begins to silently seethe.

“I do believe,” Alfred begins, “we are gathered here today to discuss Young Master Damian’s future living situation.”

Talia narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to respond—and Dick will spend the rest of his life wishing he could have seen the look Alfred gives her—before snapping her mouth shut and dropping her gaze.

* * *

They win the argument. Talia doesn’t appear to be nearly as angry as she should be when she leaves without Damian; instead, she leaves with an aura of satisfaction that has Dick worrying what her actual plan is.

Damian, curled in Dick’s arms where he’d toddled the second he’d finished nursing, coughs a little and begins to sob.

“You’re okay, Baby D. Don’t cry.” From underneath him, he can feel Bruce leaning back in the armchair, his muscles coiling, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. In other words, Bruce prepares to make a run for it if anyone so much as gives him a look to suggest he help with the sobbing child.

Alfred walks around the armchair, giving Bruce his signature You-Are-An-Overgrown-Manchild-And-I-Am-Not-Paid-Enough-To-Deal-With-Your-Shit Look, and rests his hand on Damian’s forehead. “He has a bit of a fever. I’ll contact Dr. Thompkins and book an appointment for him. Until then, keep him comfortable.” Alfred strides out of the room, giving Bruce an I-Don’t-Care-How-Emotionally-Stunted-You-Are-You-Will-Deal-With-The-Issue-Or-I-Will-Make-Your-Life-Miserable Look.

The room is stifling in its silence.

He wants to snuggle into Bruce’s arms. He wants to cuddle with the man and feel safe and secure and like everything is going to work out. But, he can’t. Not until they have a conversation.

Getting out of Bruce’s lap is hard. Sitting on the couch Talia just vacated, directly across from Bruce with a table in between them, is harder. Dick’s eyes drop down to Damian because it’s so much easier to focus on the baby than it is to focus on the father of his unborn child.

He hates Pamela Isley. He really really hates her. He hates Jonathan Crane as well. He hates them so fucking much right now. Because things are tense and awkward and uncomfortable with Bruce in a way they have never been before. 

In a way Dick hadn’t even known was possible.

Every aspect of his life feels like it’s spiraling out of his control. His emotions are unstable, his decision-making skills are unreliable, and his common sense has spent the past thirteen weeks on vacation. Dick grew up learning to trust himself to do the impossible. His parents and Bruce trained him to do his best and how to handle all the unexpected curveballs life throws at him; and yet, now Dick isn’t sure he trusts himself enough to have a productive conversation with Bruce. 

Everything is slipping through his fingers: his confidence, his optimism, his self-respect. With every terrible life decisions he makes it becomes harder and harder to regain his faith in himself. And he doesn’t know where to turn to for help because Bruce may never forgive Dick for every stupid hurtful thing he’s done recently. And what is he supposed to do if Bruce never forgives him? How is he supposed to—what is he—and—

And he’s crying. Dick bites his lips, desperately trying to stifle his sobs, but there’s no hiding the way his body shakes with every half-aborted sob. And of course his crying sets Damian off, so that both of them are sitting in the seat bawling their eyes out, while Bruce watches uncomfortably from the armchair.

Why did things have to turn out this way? Why is he this way? He never used to be like this. He just—he just doesn’t understand how things can go from amazing to shit in the blink of an eye.

Dick can’t talk to Bruce like this. He doesn’t want Bruce to see him like this. All sad and pathetic, crying like the helpless baby in his arms because he can’t control himself.

Bruce hesitates for a moment, neither rising from his chair nor plastering himself against the back of it. On anyone else his actions would be the equivalent of nervous fidgeting and agitated pacing.

“Go.” Dick manages to get the word passed the aching lump of snot in his throat. “There’s no reason for you to be here.” He knows he needs to talk to Bruce, but he can’t right now. Not when he feels like this: aching and raw and seconds from falling apart.

A thick calloused thumb gently wipes away the tears on his right cheek, tracing over his eyelid. Bruce doesn’t say anything. He sits beside Dick on the couch and drapes his arm around Dick’s shoulders. After a second, he pulls Dick into his lap, resting his head on top of Dick’s.

“We’ll figure this out,” he promises.

And Dick has no choice but to believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a terrible author. This story turned one and I didn't even notice. To make up for that have another omake that I honestly can't tell if it's crack or just something that happens in the story later on, but off screen. I'm leaning towards it happens later on, but off screen.
> 
> OMAKE: Inheritable Traits
> 
> Damian is sitting on the floor carefully arranging his colourful blocks into a tower when Bruce walks into the room. Dick cheers him on for every block he places and smiles at Bruce when he sits down beside him on the couch. “His record is ten blocks,” he tells Bruce.
> 
> “Have the two of you spent all day in here?”
> 
> “Of course not, B,” Dick laughs, sliding into Bruce’s lap, “Alfred didn’t let us eat in here.”
> 
> Bruce snorts, jaw clenching at the scent of Dick so close to him, and tries to ignore the smug glint of understanding that clings to the edge of Dick’s smirk. “You’re spoiling him.”
> 
> “And?” Dick speaks softly, his eyes half-lidded, and licks his lips.
> 
> Bruce has every intention of making a witty response and not kissing those pretty lips when he manages to catch sight of Damian, arms crossed and glaring at him. He pauses, stops and tries to process exactly what he’s seeing.
> 
> “Bruce?”
> 
> His eyes flick back over to Dick’s concerned face. “He’s glaring at me.”
> 
> Dick stares at him like he’s crazy. And Bruce knows the look Dick gives crazy people. Eyes always a touch wider than normal, lips quivering slightly as he tries not to say or do anything that might set them off, his nose scrunches up just a sliver every few seconds as he reviews options for his next move.
> 
> Dick glances over his shoulder at Damian. The second Dick looks at him, Damian bursts into tears, arms up, and makes grabby hands. Dick rolls his eyes at Bruce, climbing out of his lap, and scooping Damian up. “It’s alright, Baby D. You just need a nap.”
> 
> Damian nuzzles Dick’s mating gland, wailing, “Mime!” over and over again, as Dick walks out of the room. Damian sends Bruce one last glare before they exit the room.
> 
> “He takes after you very strongly, Master Bruce.” Bruce is too trained to jump at the sudden start of conversation, but his heart-rate skyrockets, and it takes him a few seconds to calm down enough to face Alfred.
> 
> “Does he now?”
> 
> “Indeed. You gave your parents the same treatment whenever I attempted to assist them. And, like your son, your first word was, ‘Mine,’ while clinging to my legs, as I tried to tend to your father’s injuries after he stepped on some glass.”
> 
> Bruce tries to imagine the scenario, but he can’t imagine being so possessive of Alfred he hindered the man’s attempt to aid his father. “He’ll outgrow it then?”
> 
> “Yes,” Alfred smirks, satisfaction settling in every line of his lips, “in a few years, he should settle down enough to let you approach Master Dick without issue.”
> 
> “A few years?”
> 
> Alfred chuckled as he walked out of the room.


End file.
